Blue Christmas 2023-Paul’s Mom

Funny that I was in a meeting this week with a person in long term recovery who said that if something is making him uncomfortable, he’s pretty sure he needs to lean into it. I was at that moment considering telling Lisa that I couldn’t do this.

When this event was brought up to me by my new friend in the county, Melissa, I did not plan to attend. I listened to her and truly planned to avoid this. I don’t remember saying much to her at all. I’ve learned to go into robot mode when this topic comes up.

Then, HER new friend, Lisa, contacted me and asked me to come see the Break. I knew about Lisa because Melissa shared her information about the non-profit she began.

I met Lisa at the Break and showed her the special place that was created by the youth in our county. To be truthful, it was probably in the middle of the million other items on my list for the day to keep our non-profit moving forward-and not thinking that the meeting would lead me to be here.

I knew that Lisa was a pastor and that she started her non profit to give space for people to grieve. Even then, I was still guarded about my own pain and my own loss of a child.

I can’t say that I was surprised at where the conversation took us, but I was surprised that I found someone that I wanted to ask questions to and to speak openly about the loss of my son. It makes sense. Another mother that never thought she would be in this space-and another mother trying to figure out how to keep moving forward.To hold their son’s lives and deaths up as value.

I’m fairly guarded about sharing my pain. I hate to cry. I hate it. I hate how it looks, sounds, that I can’t control it. That once the tears start, they are hard to stop. And it makes people really uncomfortable.

I do cry. As a matter of fact, for the past 12 years, almost any conversation that comes up and revolves around my boys and their fight in addiction will lead me to tears that literally just start pouring down my face. I just hate it.

So, I told that to Lisa when I met with her and she sent this to me the following morning:

Frederick Buechner: YOU NEVER KNOW what may cause tears. The sight of the Atlantic Ocean can do it, or a piece of music, or a face you’ve never seen before. A pair of somebody’s old shoes can do it. Almost any movie made before the great sadness that came over the world after the Second World War, a horse cantering across a meadow, the high-school basketball team running out onto the gym floor at the start of a game. You can never be sure. But of this you can be sure. Whenever you find tears in your eyes, especially unexpected tears, it is well to pay the closest attention.

They are not only telling you something about the secret of who you are, but more often than not God is speaking to you through them of the mystery of where you have come from and is summoning you to where, if your soul is to be saved, you should go to next.

My oldest son, Paul, died of an overdose almost exactly 3 years ago. He didn’t die of cancer or any other disease that humans feel aren’t guided by choice. He left two daughters that he loved with all of his heart. But, because their dad died of an accidental overdose, they will have to come to terms with the fact that even the overwhelming love he had for them didn’t combat the disease and the traumas he endured while here on earth. That it wasn’t their fault. That’s tough. And I’m their grandma. I fight for my son’s legacy and I fight to lean into where their heads and hearts will take them on this journey.

So when Lisa asked me to do this and she said she knew she wanted me to speak to struggle, it seemed pretty appropriate. I struggle each day trying to show up in the way God intended me to show up. The way I WANT to be able to show up. The struggle to be as good as my son was while he was here on earth because through HIS struggles, he continually evolved.

Fortunately, he left us with a lot to remember him by. His daughters, his music, his writings, the many friends and collection of people that I now have in my life because of him and his journey. But the essence of Paul and who he was that I have to remember is that he was my son,but he is one of so many other mother’s sons and they all deserve the same legacy-to show up and leave this life as God intended them to, not as humans judge them to. Paul taught me to give people moments of peace in tough times and to let that be enough. Showing up for another human is enough and I will continue to honor the struggle of leaning in, showing up, and letting go when I have to.

Candle 2:  This candle represents STRUGGLE.  We acknowledge that life is struggle.  Jesus said…in this world you will have trouble.  We offer tonight the acceptance that struggle is a process.  It is an invitation to change us.  Struggle is a call to bear the trouble without being defeated by it and to come out of it better than when we found ourselves in the midst of it.  The essence of struggle is the decision to become new rather than simply to become older. 

We pause to offer our struggle to God, asking for His help to sustain us in our struggle and to lead us to our true selves because of it.