Vol IV: #24 Rich Amid Crisis
The welcome clarity brought about by the urgency of death hit me yesterday. Suddenly, my economic and romantic states were no longer important, and everything petty fell away like the way the wind blows dead leaves off a tree. I reacted by texting all my praying friends, those who believe in miracles. And they responded as I knew they would. And then I feel to my knees like a child before bed and begged for my father’s life.
Today, that scene seems dramatic. Calm has replaced the chaos as tests and more test commence. The news of my father’s demise will have to wait for another day. And this is what it feels like to live in the aftermath of a miracle. Of course, he was going to be ok. But was he? What if I- and I assume other family members- didn’t pray and ask others to call down heaven? The modern western mind will say answer in the affirmative. Yes. He was fine. No need for alarm. In fact, no. He was not.
My dad’s entire life is a string of miracles and sideswipes at death. The fact that he made it to sixty-six years old is a testament to the good hand of God. And while I will be grieved the day death makes the final call, I will not be angry or bitter. I have loved my dad the best I know how. And I know he loves me. And I’m grateful to have had a good father-son relationship, the type craved by so many.
I’m also grateful to known and loved by my community of friends. Though I sat alone in my room, I did not feel alone. And though I do not have resources to travel home, offers of assistance poured in, should I need it. And in a moment like yesterday, after spending weeks mired in self-pity, I’m made suddenly aware of how rich I am, in love and life. And no amount of money can buy a healthy parental relationship or loyal friends.
