Welcome, God and All...
After my most recent post, I have been struggling to establish a resolution that might ease my conscience. Relationships with those I mentioned rate from strained to non-existent. In trying to hold a middle ground, did I fail to address the immediacy of the situation during the years it mattered most?
An attempt to reach out via a recent phone call resulted in being sent to voicemail (expected), but the call has not been returned (sad but also expected). I thought maybe I should send a letter directly. The difficult part of that is tracking down addresses of my four godchildren. Then there's the real likelihood of my letter being ignored, rejected, or possibly igniting an agitated conversation I no longer wish to hear.
Therapists often say in situations like this that one can make peace with themselves by writing a letter that is never mailed or putting the same in a blog such as this one. The intended recipients would only see it if they happened across a link to my blog, which is unlikely; or if I link the post to my social media account. Since none of them are in my list of friends, and as what I post there is only seen by those who follow me (they pretty much stopped that twelve years ago), it will only be seen by the God who sees everything, He who is Lord of my life.
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Dear Godchildren,
A long time ago (in a world that now seems very far away), you received the breath of life and came into this world. Not long after, your parents, wishing to have you christened because that's the way things are supposed to be, asked your Aunt Diane and I to serve as godparents at your Catholic baptism.
About the same time, I was going through discernment as to becoming an ordained minister in the Catholic Church. I was, therefore, keenly aware of what was required of those who would be godparents. On paper, we checked off all the necessary boxes. We were honored to witness and have a front-row seat the day you were claimed as a child of God.
But there of course was a "fly in the ointment." Actually, more than one. Perhaps the largest was that Aunt Diane's parents - half of your grandparents - rarely took an active part in practicing the Catholic faith by example, that being attending Mass weekly and engaging in prayer with the family at home. When referring to spiritual matters, Grandpa referred to Jesus as "Ralph". Grandma was non-committal; following the tradition of doing most of whatever her husband asked or needed. They, like many other parents of that generation, struggled to raise them as children. Sometimes, life got in the way. Stresses were often released in ways we should know by now aren't good for anyone. It was, in a child's eyes, often seen as just the way things were.
Because of this, there was no foundation or ground rules followed. Their children - your mom and aunts - went their own way. And due to the stresses in the home, they went in a different but similar direction spiritually. This was how your parents' generation dealt with such things. This was how we as teenagers found our way to adulthood. Idyllically, we espoused harmony and understanding, peace and love abounding. John Lennon sang of imagin(ing) there was no heaven, and millions followed, like lemmings into the abyss. Some didn't, but fell back in an even older mentality, the one they experienced. Failure to obey and respect was a one-way ticket to eternal damnation. Were we so naive as to see God as rejecting you because you didn't dot your 'i's and cross every 't'? (Doesn't this have some of the look and feel of today's news cycle?)
Anyway, Aunt Diane and I were proud to be your godparents. When you had questions about spiritual matters, we did our best to answer them sensitively. "My way or the highway" was not the way to win young disciples. The things you were exposed to...that was not the way, either.
As kids, you saw us as "Auntie Fun" and "Uncle Jolly". To me, it was probably an honor undeserved, but who am I to turn that down? I was unconventional. I frequently crossed the lines between maturity and freedom of expression, so why would you take me seriously?
And as you grew into adulthood, you could no longer be shielded from the ugliness of a broken world. Your grandparents died, shaky marriages broke up or simply went their own way and ignored each other on those hot-button issues.
Then the bottom fell out. Aunt Diane, dealing with a family history of health issues, had a series of strokes and died on May 1, 2014. It changed everything.
Aunt Diane had a huge and growing lack of trust in the medical profession. First, over her ability to have children. Once Nick was born, trying to figure out what happened that caused his developmental disability, and then trying to cope with it. Living on one income so she could attempt to do everything she could for him. Keeping him out of the spotlight of constant testing, poking, prodding, and pigeon-holing in the hopes that he could have an independent life filled with love.
I know I have been accused of unwittingly causing Diane's death. It was the most difficult decision of my life, and it wasn't made out of a cheap convenience. I paid dearly for that decision. I am still paying for it. I did not go back to work - I couldn't, beyond continuing to serve my Church, which had been of great help to me and Nick. By the way, they ask more about how he's doing than do any of you. I stopped asking myself why long ago. I tried to keep up with you, showing interest in what you were up to. And for that, I was told without fanfare that I was getting too involved.
However, I haven't stopped doing one thing godparents are supposed to do. One thing that many Catholic and Christian parents do. Pray that somehow, some day, you will find your way to the Church in which you were claimed as a child of God. Sadly, I fear it's going to take something greater than the death of someone you genuinely loved to get you there. Something catastrophic. Something that may only affect you and people closest to you; or the Armageddon (look it up) of our generation that will have devastating effects on most if not all of us.
Oh...and you should know that at age 71, as a type 2 diabetic with stage 3a kidney disease and prostate cancer, and continuing to be father and friend to my nearly 34-year-old Nick, I may still seem unconventional...but I think I've finally grown up. Funny how that works. Anyway, I continue to pray for you, and a host of other things every day. God is here among you. I hope you will come to understand this sooner than later, if you haven't already.
I hope I don't outlive any of you, but should that be God's will, I will pay my respects one way or another, based on my own ability. I would hope you would do that much for Nick should the time come, but we should not make any promises we might not be able to keep.
With that, I am closing the door on this part of my life. Closing, but not locking. If you ever have some serious questions you want to ask me, you will know then how to find me. May you find true peace in the middle of your life's journey.
Respectfully, and with love,
Uncle Bob
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Until we meet again, may God be with you...and may he have mercy on us all...
+the Phoenix
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