A Time to Heal and Weep

“To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven. A time to be born, a time to die. A time to plant, a time to reap. A time to kill, a time to heal. A time to laugh, a time to weep.” And as I woke up to start the new season of my very own life on that Father’s Day morning in the summer of 2020, I looked around my new apartment, not knowing if it was a time for me to laugh or weep? I had just slept on my only worldly possession at the time, my queen size mattress which was still on the floor (with no bed frame or headboard). Thankfully I had just purchased some sheets, pillows and a comfortable the day before, so I wasn’t exactly ‘bare-bonesing’ it, but close. I had already pre-ordered all my furniture, but remember this was all taking place during the middle of a pandemic, so it would take up to 3 plus weeks before it was scheduled to be delivered. To the rescue, my oldest daughter who had just recently moved back home from Chicago, had gifted me her patio table with two chairs. Actually the correct term would be “re-gifted”, since I had originally purchased that same set to her a year earlier. But hey, I was just grateful to have something to sit on besides the floor until my furniture arrived.

So on that Father’s Day morning, alone and sitting on a patio chair in my small apartment, looking aimlessly out the window, I knew that I couldn’t get any lower. With one daughter living 1,700 miles away in San Diego, at least I was fortunate that the other was now living nearby. Without that, my mind would have most likely gone to a much darker place. Because not only did I lose the woman that I had once loved, but because of her decision, I had also lost her son and his wife, 4 grandchildren that had only known me as their ‘Poppy’ for the past 8 years, her sisters and all their families, and her wonderful parents who I also loved and had always thought of as my own. I had lost an entire family, and was quickly forgotten by most of them. Which to be honest, that might still be the one thing that hurts me the most to this day. They all I’m sure now love the ‘new guy’ that soon replaced me in all their lives (out with the old, in with the new as they say). So that Sunday morning I probably felt more alone, more abandoned, less loved than I remember having ever felt in my entire life.

I know everyone has had suicidal thoughts, it’s natural to think about when you feel life has let you down. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have those same exact thoughts cross my mind that morning. But they were just thoughts, I’d never have the courage to actually go thru with that (wait, is “courage” the right word?). And as I thought to myself at that moment, in that empty apartment, alone, “can it actually get any worse?”, a facebook notification popped up on my phone. It was a message from a longtime friend that I had not seen or talked in many, many years. She was just wanting to wish me a Happy Father’s Day and asking how I was doing? She later told me that she really didn’t know why I had crossed her mind that morning, but whatever it was, it had compelled her to reach out to me. Thank God she did, because that dear friend that I had first met in 1995, well I’m not saying she saved my life per se (because no, she didn’t), but she definitely, unequivocally, without a shadow of a doubt, helped me start the process of digging out of my own deep mental anguish, aka ‘the rock bottom’. Which really meant one thing, now was the time to begin to heal. A slow process yes, but at least a start.