It is said that no child should die before their parents do:
“No parent should have to bury a child … No mother should have to bury a son. Mothers are not meant to bury sons. It is not in the natural order of things. I buried my son. In a potter’s field. In a field of Blood. In empty, acrid silence. There was no funeral. There were no mourners. His friends all absent. His father dead. His sisters refusing to attend. I discovered his body alone, I dug his grave alone, I placed him in a hole, and covered him with dirt and rock alone. I was not able to finish burying him before sundown, and I’m not sure if that affected his fate … I begrudge God none of this. I do not curse him or bemoan my lot. And though my heart keeps beating only to keep breaking–I do not question why. I remember the morning my son was born as if it was yesterday. The moment the midwife placed him in my arms, I was infused with a love beyond all measure and understanding. I remember holding my son, and looking over at my own mother and saying, ‘Now I understand why the sun comes up at day and the stars come out at night. I understand why rain falls gently. Now I understand you, Mother’ … I loved my son every day of his life, and I will love him ferociously long after I’ve stopped breathing. I am a simple woman. I am not bright or learned. I do not read. I do not write. My opinions are not solicited. My voice is not important … On the day of my son’s birth I was infused with a love beyond all measure and understanding … The world tells me that God is in Heaven and that my son is in Hell. I tell the world the one true thing I know: If my son is in Hell, then there is no Heaven–because if my son sits in Hell, there is no God.” — Stephen Adly Guirgis
I do not agree with his theology, but I thoroughly agree with his emotions. For any parent who has lost a child, the thought that God is just can be a terrible thought. Yes, yes, of course, that is wrong. God is not responsible for evil. But, when one has the correct theology of an omnipotent God, one tends to ask, “WHY NOT SAVE MY CHILD?” The recriminations flow. It is very tough to overcome the thought that if God can perform so many miracles, why not MY CHILD!!!!! The daughter of a friend of mine struggles with having had to approve part of her daughter’s leg to be amputated. WHERE WERE YOU, GOD? There is no easy and safe answer, other than that we are to trust God and to love him with our whole heart, soul, and mind. But, I understand the difficulty in not having that be a satisfactory answer.
I understand the difficulty because my mother suffers from senile dementia. No, not Alzheimer’s, but senile dementia, which is a different issue. My mother was an incredible woman. Yes, WAS. Senile Dementia has a way of thieving away the personality, and presence of a person. She started university studies in Cuba. She sent her children to the USA after she realized the danger of Fidel Castro. She escaped in a fishing boat, was picked up by the Coast Guard, and reached the USA. She reunited with us. She finished her Bachelor’s degree in the USA, after escaping from Cuba. She did additional studies at the Master’s degree level. But, that woman is gone. What remains is a forgetful woman who keeps repeating herself, who micturates herself, who has trouble remembering her greatgrandchildren, who is but a shell of herself.
And, so, now, like many other children of parents who have either senile dementia or Alzheimer’s, I ache. I ache very deeply. This is my mom. This is the woman who gave me life. But, she is no longer fully there. She is only half here. The prospect for the future is that she will be less and less her. And, so, the thought arises, just like the counsel of Job’s wife. Why not curse God so that he will finally wipe you out and relieve your pain? But, like Job, that is not the correct answer. I have no idea what the correct answer is. But, by faith, I do believe that there is a right answer. It is just that my limited comprehension cannot understand it. My mother certainly does not understand it. She has stated more than once that she wishes to die, as there is no reason for her to be her. She wants to be with her brothers and sisters. She wants to be with her mother. She wants to be with her husbands. She wants to have her full mind. And, I have no reason for her desire not to be granted, and then immediately feel guilty for thinking that thought.
No, I do not have an answer. But, this Lent I find myself clinging to God and asking him to make it right. I have no other answer. I have no other explanation. But, I have faith that, somehow, God is at work. I wish I had an easy theological answer for you, but I do not. I wish I could explain it all to you, but I cannot. I wish the Fall had not happened, but it did, and it left us with many conditional, uncertain, incomplete propositional statements in its wake.
Leave a Reply