See You Later Wylie

See You Later Wylie

My daughter and grandson disappeared down the drive with my wife, headed for the airport and home to San Antonio. When the brake lights went out and the car turned left onto the street I found myself unable to hold back the tears.  It has been a wonderful week with my daughter home and the joy of wooing the affections of Wylie my newest grandson of 8 months.  He is a bundle of energy, smiles, and love that a proud Papa could never resist.  To have my sweet daughter home again has been a wonderful treat made the more enjoyable by the gathering of her brother and his wife, her sister and the other grandkids to celebrate life and family around our table…I am so blessed.

So why the tears?  I am not sure I know except that one more separation seemed for the moment more than I was prepared to bear.  Life seems to be full of them of late, either threatened or real.  I lost my Dad last summer, my dog this spring, and twice this year we thought we had lost Jan’s dad, Wylie.  It seems such a struggle some times to keep everything together in a world where so much is coming undone.

I have far more for which to be thankful than to be sad.  I met a man today whose wife went to another state to visit his daughter and new grandchild. For reasons he and no one else can fathom, she jumped off a bridge rather than returning home.  He seems far more together after 6 months than I could imagine myself being if I were in his shoes.

I just finished reading a book today by Lee and Bob Woodruff, the ABC anchor, who suffered a near fatal head wound covering the war in Iraq.  The miracle of his recovery and the unbelievable resilience of his wife and family are an inspiration, but at the same time the tragedy of his injury and so many like him highlights the terrible mess of life.

So, am I just depressed?  Should I take a Valium and get a grip on things?  I don’t think I’m depressed and I feel strangely comfortable, maybe not manly, but comfortable with my tears.  The pain of separation and the celebrations of time together seem to join in the tears.  The pain and the hope are felt with equal intensity and I long for the day when He will wipe away the tears.  I find myself drawn with the psalmist to the words, “How long, O God?”  Chris Wright, in The God I Don’t Understand, notes that today we are prone to ask God, “Why?’  The Hebrews in the time of the Psalms asked, “How long?” 

Certainly there are plenty of separations to bring tears, but there is also great hope in the redemption that is already present and the sweet promise of what is to come.  So I will savor the good life brings along with the bitter…just pass me another tissue.