The Anchor (A long post)
Submitted by Mavrick on 2002-12-28 09:25:20, Saturday
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This is a long posting. I couldn’t sleep last night so I pulled out the laptop and wrote this. At first I was gong to make it an entry into my journal, but then I deiced to share it with you. Any of you who have read some of my “long” posting will know that I tend to write in a story line, making my statements into stories. I hope this will be well received. It’s Friday night, 12:36 AM Saturday morning, as I writ this. JR’s sleeping in the bed next to me, worried that I might need him and he wouldn’t hear me if I called him. That and I think he was feeling a little lonely tonight. I have been thinking over the past few days about the New Year and the past year and how things have changed. Some things for the better, some for the worse. And through it all there has been an Anchor that has held me….. held us….. strong and fast. The year started out like anything else with the Watch Night service and New Year celebration at church. JR and his Mom were there with me. We had become more and more like a family, going to events and places together. Then there was the day…. the night…… that I got the call. And my best friend, JR’s Mom, was dead. No longer could I see her beautiful face, hear he musical laugh, and watch her smile at the funny things JR did. I could no linger entertain the thought of asking her to marry me and making her and JR my real family. Even now the pain is still here. I wonder if it will ever stop. Then the reading of the will, the pronouncement that JR was to be my son, adopted, of course, but he had always been my son in my heart. And the joy that filled me when he looked at me and said, “Does this mean I can call you Dad now?” That can never be put into words. Emotions of total loss mixed with emotions of complete joy. And the Anchor held fast, day after day. Then the funeral and the task of what to do with her belongings. My heart went through so much that month. The hardest thing was watching JR go through the pain. I had suffered loss before, but he had not. And still the Anchor held fast in the stormy seas that we were on. But the pain was there. Many nights JR would come into my room and crawl into to bed with me and simply say, “Hold me.” And I did. Nothing sexual, nothing erotic, just a young boy who was going through hell and needed holding and comforting. We cried together and held each other through the long nights and the longer days. She was missed and still is. And again the Anchor held. Then the break in at the house. The absolute anger that I saw in JR’s face, his body trembling with total outrage at his mother’s carefully cleaned house being decimated. The damage was devastating to both of us, but more so to JR. And then I broke my hand trying to let out all the anger. After we got back, finding the church’s youth group and some of the elders having cleaned the house, JR spoke the words that I will never forget. The words that still ring in my head after all these months, just as if he had said them moments ago. “It’s just a house now.” My heart was broken because of his loss again. I wanted revenge. I wanted to make the people that did this to him pay. And still the Anchor held, not even budging an inch. JR hovering over me in the painful times that I went through with the surgery and the way he teased me with pictures he took of me, mouth hanging open, eyes glazed over looking drunk, all because of the pain meds. I had no choice but to laugh. The heart-breaking times when I would find him holding his mother’s picture, tears running down his face. “God, I miss her,” he’d say. All I could do is agree with him and let the storms of emotion come again and rock our world. And still the Anchor held. The revelation of his feeling that I was smothering him and our six hour talk that cleared things up.The change in our relationship subtle, but making it stronger. And the forgiveness that we shared. The nights of being lonely when he was staying at a friend’s house, noticing that the house was so quiet with out him around. (Thanks Andy for that night. You really helped a lot, more than you can ever know.) Hearing of Chris on the BLF and his struggles and hardship. All we could do is pray for him, so we did. And God answered the prayers with His awesome powers. And the Anchor still held, growing firmer in it setting. The sale of JR’s Mom’s house, the sale of my house and the recent purchase of OUR new house. Everything coming together at once. The move, the injury to my hand getting better and then worse because I became careless again. JR pushing me into taking pain meds again, even though I didn’t I want to, but finally gave in because he was so concerned about me. And the Anchor held still. Then came Christmas. A day of celebration of His birth. A day of giving and receiving. A day that hurt so bad I can still feel the pain. JR had been eager to open his gifts, but also knew that I had my tradition of giving thanks for the Birth of Jesus and what it meant to us. Giving thanks for everything He had done for us. From the Birth to His Sacrifice. Then JR ripped into the presents. I let him go first. After all, next to Christ, he is the most important person in my life. There were two gifts I had set aside for him to open last. After he finished the others, I told him about the two gifts. One was from his Mom. She had gotten it for him a few days before she had died. I had known about it because she asked me to keep it at my house so he wouldn’t find it. I made sure it was hidden all the time, never telling him about it. I was worried how he would react. I had him open that one first. His smile faded slowly. The tears came out and he just there. I waited. I watched and I felt the tears pushing out of my own eyes. After a few moments he tenderly held the package close and cried openly. Had I made a mistake? Did I ruin his Christmas? God I hoped not. I wanted to go to hm and hold him, comfort him, but I knew he had to go through this alone. So I watched. Finally he got up from the floor and came over, and with out a word sat on my lap. I held him close and let him cry, rubbing his back, tears running down my face for the pain he was going through. After a few minutes he whispered in my ear, “I’d almost forgotten she wasn’t here. Thanks.” He hugged me and I hugged him. We sat like that for what seemed like hours, but was only a few short moments. Then he got up and went upstairs to his room. He came back down with a picture of his Mom and put it on the coffee table, arranging it so it was facing everything around the tree. Gently he touched the picture and said, “Thanks Mom.” I felt like my heart was going to stop. And the Anchor was tested once again, holding fast and not letting go. I was grateful for the Anchor and it was then that I realized it was there. I guess I always knew it was ther, I just never noticed it so clearly. Then I mentioned that he still had one more present to open. He opened it and looked confused, pulling a set of keys out of the box. This was my “big surprise” for him. After a moment’s silence asked, “What are these for?” I smiled and got up. I had him follow me to the garage, bringing the keys with him. I had him close his eyes and step into the garage. I turned on the lights and had him open his eyes. When he did a huge smile came across his face. His own four-wheeler was sitting there with a big red bow on it. He whooped and hugged me. He ran over to it sat on it, making sure the key worked. I told him he could ride it later, after breakfast and we cleaned up. The happiness around him dispelled the sadness that he had only moments before. He came back inside with me and “showed” his Mom the keys and promised that he would be very careful when he did ride because he knew she would be worried. And the Anchor held. He had me open my gifts. He had been told to limit his money, but I could tell he did not. A new watch, replacing the one I had broken weeks before. A new “Wilmington’s Guide to the Bible,” replacing the one I had let a friend borrow when he was teaching his sons over two years before. (If you have never seen one you should find it and read it. It is the best book I have ever used.) A bottle of my favorite colon, very expensive and hard to find. I kiddingly scolded him for that, but was glad he had gotten it. And last but not least, a photo album of the years we had been together. I noticed that there were no pictures of his mother, but I did not say anything. That album now sits in my office on my desk. I has replaced the single photo I have of him, the one that I look at when I get discouraged or depressed. That picture is now attached to my computer terminal where I can see his smiling face when I am working. I wish I had put there before. I flipped through the album, JR standing looking over my shoulder. The last page had a portrait of him and me with him standing behind me, his arms around my neck and his face next to mine. Both of us were smiling, looking very happy. He had written the words, “My best friend, now and forever. I Love you. I always have and I always will, no matter what!” I lost it. I cried and laughed at the same time. I turned and gave him the biggest hug. And he hugged me back, holding me like he would never let go. “I mean that. You are my best friend and I do love you, more than you will ever know.” I leaned back and put my forehead against his and said, “That’s my line, buddy, not yours.” He laughed and said, “We can share it.” He hugged me again and then he went to get breakfast on the table, refusing to let me help because, “I know your hand is really hurting you and I’ll be damned if your going to do anything to make it worse.” I didn't argue. He was right. And the Anchor held stronger than ever. This year has gone by so fast. It has been a roller coaster of emotions. ALmost sureal with everything that has happened. It was a year from the pits of hell. And now we face a new year of changes, challenges and choices. A year of struggles, big and small. Still settling into the new house and getting used to the strange sounds that are new to us. I, personally, can look forward to months of Physical Therapy for my hand. I have lost some of the feeling in it and I know that I have lost a great deal of strength, barley being able to hold a cup. Of course I still have the cast on, but it feels different. But the Anchor is holding still and I know that every thing will work out. I love the Anchor. It has seen us through some very hard times over the past year. I have tested the Anchor and found it to be so much stronger than I thought it would be. Through the hard times, the good times, the sadness and the joy, through the anger and frustration, and the lonely nights, the Anchor has held. The Anchor is more important than ever now. And as I write this I wonder how I could have coped if I did not have the Anchor to hold us in the stormy seas of life. The Anchor. It is my faith in Jesus, my love for Him. Our love for Him. If it wasn’t for the Anchor I would have been lost in a sea of emotions, and so would JR. I want to take a moment to thank Andy for all his help. He has become a dear and special friend to me and JR. And even though we have never met in person, which I hope to one-day remedy, he has been there for both of us when we needed him most. Providing advise that is very sound, helping with JR’s Alaska research, or just letting me ramble on when I was lonely or upset about something, and praying, always praying for us. We never say our prayers with out mentioning Andy. We love you more than you will ever know, Andy. We look forward to the time when we can meet you in person. God has blessed us with you. I only hope we have been a blessing to you as well. And for Oliver. The times you have given advise, especilly with the "decision" that I had to make. The answer to which is yes, with caution. I want to wish you all a Happy New Year. Thank you taking the time to read this. Mav |
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