If God lives inside us, like some people say, I sure hope he likes enchiladas because that's what he's getting.
This past week, my mind has been elsewhere. In the quiet moments all of my thoughts and feelings have turned to the intense emotions that envelop the bereaved. Until my son died, I didn't understand Grief. Now that we are well acquainted, we have become friends of sorts. We do everything together...laugh...cry...and long for what should have been. And just when I think I totally get it, Grief hits me upside the head in an unanticipated move.
On Friday, April 16th, Shea, the 5 year old grandson of one of our driving instructors, ran in back of his father's vehicle as it was backing out of the driveway. It struck him and he died. I have never met Shea, yet all of the emotions that surround my own son's death creep to the surface and I relive the pain of my own circumstance. I am devastated for Shea's family. Especially, his father.
What can we do to go back in time and change something? The short answer is we can't. Our intelligence tells us what's done is done. But the heart longs for a different outcome. Reconciling the heart and mind takes time and divine help. The questions of "why?" start flooding in and are met with "how?" Our brains don't get it. When we never wanted to hurt anyone and were attentive to the driving task, how could we not control the outcome? How can I, as a driver's ed instructor, teach my students what they must do to become collision-free for life when I know that sometimes in spite of all precaution Grief knocks on unsuspecting doors every day and tragedies happen? But it's not fair! True, it's not. But that's not the point. The point is that we do our best and turn the rest over to our Creator. Simple? Yes. Easy? Not a chance.
Sweet Angel Shea, you are missed. I hope you're playing Rock Band in heaven and loving it. Say hi to my boy. He's the little guy always grinning as he unplugs your power supply.