When our Hans was two, I often said, “Hans, come over here.” He would toddle up to me, and I’d say it again. “Hans, come here.”
Then he’d say, “But I am come-here-d.” And I’d laugh and scoop him up for a hug.
Eventually he figured out this ritual had nothing to do with asking him to come over and everything to do with what he said when he got there. Eventually he’d run to me without having been called and say, “I’m come-here-d, Mama!” waiting for the hug to follow.
Every parent has a million of these happy memories tucked away in a mental treasure chest. They’re part of the family narrative, bits of glue that bond individuals together.
Hans is married now, has a family and lives 4000 miles away in England, but because of our shared memories, we remain close. He’s making new history now, and I’m not part of it. Gradually as the years go by, more and more of his time will be lived with others, which of course is how life goes.
When I think about Nate, the situation has several parallels. He and I each had our parent-child relationships for 20 years before we met, after which we began making memories together. The toddler-Hans memory was just one small part of what Nate and I shared.
Then he died. His departure was similar to when Hans moved to England. Both left quickly, and distances were great, but when Nate moved, he relocated farther away than any point on our globe. I can still get to my son but can no longer get to my husband.
As I think about Nate in his new life in that hidden world, I know he’s making a million fresh memories, none of which include me. The flip side of that scenario is also true. The memories I’m making, many of them delightful, no longer include Nate. For example, although he’d planned to live with me in Michigan, I’m experiencing my first winter in the “summer cottage” without him. Also, this year I’ll turn 65, and all the jokes we made about signing up together for Medicare now only apply to me. I will continue to age, but his birthdays stopped at 64.
Three of his grandchildren will join our family in the next three months, none of whom will know their grandpa. My travel to help with these babies and their toddler siblings, full of bright moments, will occur without him. Our family reunion this fall, returning to a place Nate chose and loved, will be full of satisfaction and significance for all of us, except Nate.
I believe these thoughts are God’s gift to me, encouraging me toward the future. Although my first choice would have been for our family leader to still be leading, the Lord is leading now and is hinting at wonderful memory-making to come. The fact that Nate is a million miles away having a spectacular time without me doesn’t mean I ought not to keep making happy memories right here where he left me.
I believe Nate and I will always be who we are, even in the hereafter. God went to the trouble to design people to be unique, each different from all the others. Why would he homogenize us in heaven? Just as Jesus prompted his friends to notice he was the same recognizable person after his resurrection as before, I think Nate will be the same recognizable man when I see him again.
Once in heaven, we’ll most likely remember our earthly history together while catching up on the separate memories we’ve made during our time apart. The Bible says there are no marriage partners in heaven, but I’m sure Nate and I will be good friends, just as we were on earth, but better.
Erwin Lutzer, one of my favorite pastors, said, “Death breaks ties on earth but renews them in heaven.” I believe it wholeheartedly. In the mean time, I’ll do what Nate did. I’ll “soldier on” and take pleasure in making memories where I am.
Eventually God will ask me to “Come here,” and one day I’ll be standing next to him, thrilled to say, “I am come-here-d!” And after I get my hug, I’ll look up, and there will be Nate.
“God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus.” (Ephesians 2:6-7)
Hi!
When I was 4 my grandpa died and I’m the only one of his grandkids that remember his alittle. And he was only 62 years when he passed away… All of you will remember Nate and be able to tell the three new babies who he was and so on. My cousins doesn’t care about asking to get to know things about their grandpa, even if I would love to tell the things I remember of him!
Lots of Love, Malin
Margaret,
I commented once before – you don’t know me, as I got to your site through a friend, and I’m not sure how she got it! But, I’m 35, and my mom died this August from breast cancer. I just wanted you to know that you are helping me to be a better, more thoughtful, more appreciative & expressive wife. This morning, I caught my husband outside scraping the frost off his windshield as my own vehicle sat dry and snug in the garage. Because of you, it occurred to me that I should tell him (in my case, I sent him an e-mail) how much I appreciate those “little” sacrifices he makes to make my and my son’s life easier. Thank you for your continued effort with this blog.
Hi Margaret,
Pastor James is on the “rampage” again (I say that with affection) about reserving the word “awesome” for God alone. His point is well-taken. When I got down to and read your last paragraph I sat back and said, “awes… spectacular!” That was one great ending to your story, and has had me thinking all day. Your stories are wonderful to read; your punch lines poignant.
I have a quote from Peggy Noonan (another fantastic writer named Margaret :)) hanging in my classroom that I was reminded of as I read the latter part of your blog. The actual article is quite long, the quote much shorter, and goodness, my excerpt here even less!! But she said this: “Our ancestors believed in two worlds, and understood this to be the solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short one. If you do not believe in another, higher world, if you believe only in the flat material world around you, if you believe that this is your only chance at happiness—if that is what you believe, then you are not disappointed when the world does not give you a good measure of its riches, you are despairing.”
When the child David conceived with Bathsheba died, he would have despaired had he not known that “he will not return to me, but I shall go to him.”
Nothing wrong with England, where Hans is (well, we did whoop them a couple hundred years ago), but Nate is definitely a citizen in a far greater country.
The Psalmist would have despaired unless he believed he would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living (Psalm 27:13). I am so glad He is giving you good things to anticipate even as you soldier on without Nate to share them here.
You are so right about maintaining our identity in heaven.I’m not a country girl, but I can tell the difference between say a tomato seed and a cucumber seed. Just as what is sown has it’s own unique identity, so when it is raised, not only are the mature plants very distinctive, they are far more awes… magnificent, than the seeds themselves.
C.S. Lewis, writing in The Weight of Glory, said that even the dullest and most uninteresting person we see here, may one day be a creature we will strongly be tempted to worship. Now that’s awes…breathtaking!
Continuing to pray for you.
Terry
One of the many gifts of these entries is the seamless weaving together of past, present and future….you share a toddler story, relate it to him as an adult, keep us on point regarding your ongoing thoughts of Nate, and give us a lovely view of heaven as a place of cosiness and connection. So why am I constantly dripping onto my keyboard??? 🙂 It could be because many hearts are being knitted together with yours, since you’ve opened yours so wide. And that’s the stuff of great memories!
Dear Margaret, all of your entries are interesting, inspiring and thought-provoking, and this one is doubly so.
You are so wise to look ahead not only to making new memories, but also to making happy new ones at that. May 2010 be a year full of new happy memories even as you continue to reflect on past ones that included Nate. Love & prayers, Ruth