Though this was posted May 7, it was written on the 6th…

Every year for the past 11 years, this day sneaks up on me and before I realize it, I’m in the middle of it.

On May 6th, 1998, my father ended his own life with a handgun and on may 6th each successive year I remember him a bit more distinctly than on other days.

…I remember him coaching soccer with a Darth-Vader mask on so we’d pay attention.
…I remember him dancing to Elvis without a shirt on.
…I remember him taking me out to go running for the first time.
…I remember he and I running for the last time.
…I remember how old he looked the last year of his life.. far older than he was.
…I remember that he and my mother danced really well together.
…I remember him reading.
…I remember him showing up at everything I did.
…I remember the first time I realized he’d be absent for everything from then on.

I don’t write a whole lot about this subject but it’s not because it is too painful.  Likewise, it’s not because “I’m over it” (whatever it is people mean when they say that).  I don’t bring it up very much because it’s simply become part of who I am, like graduating from college or getting married or attending my first rock show (REM, in case you wanted to know).  The darkness of that event and the shadow that stands in the place my father would normally take in my life are simply part of the landscape now.  Just like the frustration and confusion born in me due to the disappointment of my expectations of God and His goodness are part of my relationship with God.

I live in dichotomy, I live in tension.. and I’m learning that there is no “trick” to resolving or relieving this tension. In fact, it keeps me alive.

Brian Greene recently wrote an article in WIRED magazine about mystery.  He begins by positing the depression that would set in among the scientific community if, under extraordinary circumstances, everything got fixed/solved. He writes…

“Science is the journey.  Science is about immersing ourselves in piercing uncertainty while struggling with the deepest of mysteries. It is the ultimate adventure.”

(Of course, he then goes on to say that we are really just monkeys, that God is not real and that none of this matters because life is meaningless… because he is a scientist, and therefore, an enemy of Truth… right?)

Surely this is not only true of Science but true of life…  and true of Science because it is an examination of life… and surely if Science is driven by mystery and uncertainty, then our religion must be as well…

… and there I go.. going on… preaching to myself; fighting off the lingering grip of unreligious thinking that tells me I will be “whole” when I am unaffected by my history, free of doubt.  But my uncertainties are part of my faith; my history is part of my everyday; my sadness part of my joy; the darker shades of my person differentiate between the lighter shades and all of this is part  of what makes me ..

well..

..whole.  A whole person.  And that is something my father could not see about himself. Because those same unreligious thoughts had convinced him that his failures made him less than human; that only his successes made him worth something.  But he was more than the sum total of his wins and losses.. and because of the sickening emptiness his absence leaves in me, I now know that I am more than that.