A Parable, A Prayer and

It happens less and less these days when I open the secret compartment in my heart that mourns for my lost sheep. It has been 9 years now, and the searing pain has eased to a constant ache.

I no longer gasp for breath or realize tears are flowing down my cheeks when I remember the child who has moved from my world.

I merely feel my contact lenses become suddenly moist if Pandora plays one of the songs he sang in the folk group or someone mentions his name..

It is not that I have forgotten him. That could never be.

But as a seer once said, time does heal. Unfortunately, the wise man did not predict the scars that it also leaves.

They are a constant reminder of time wasted, love lost and the ever questioning of the unknown whys and reasons for all the lost sheep so many parents have known, nurtured and loved.

And like everything else, I turn to my Lord, but no longer ask why.

Because this year, I realize I have finally found the answer.

It is not what I searched for. It is not an understanding of what caused the tragic rupture of a family; nor why it continues, nor how will it end. No rather it is because I realize I have finally reached the end of the years of questioning and soul searching for answers that will never be there.

I have come to the juncture where I know what it is that I must do with the pain, the unbelievable loss that in my wildest dreams I would have always found impossible to predict

My unforeseen grief is a gift to be used. Not one I welcomed, nor wished for, nor anticipated, but a sorrow that must not be allowed to fester and wither the enduring love for my child. I cannot allow my anguish to become a burden for others.

This past year has taught me many things. One of the most important that I have learned is that I am not the only parent who has suffered from the unfathomable absence of an adult child. Few of us know or understand where or when or how the erosion of love began. We no longer wish or care to cast blame on others or are strong enough emotionally to constantly soul search ourselves wondering about vague or remote causes.

Many of us sharing the same heartbreak ultimately comprehend the essence of the biblical parable The Lost Sheep. It has been a lesson that has taken a lifetime to learn.

Once that understanding arrives, it softly washes away the residual of pain and restores only the many joyous memories of the gift of time we had once been privileged to share with our missing loved one.

Then slowly and ever so surely the songs of yesteryear begin to evoke a smile. Soon rather than focusing on the hole in our hearts, we ,who understand grieving for lost sheep, are again able to remember only the love and give thanks for the time once shared.

We realize how very blessed we were while it endured.

And then, we are able to join Tiny Tim in saying, “God bless us everyone.” And add, “Joy to all Men.”