Death Grip

Most of the time and in most situations, I'm quite guarded about sharing the longings and depth of feeling in my heart. There seems to be an assumption (on my part) that it is "unacceptable" to unmask the beast, so to speak. It isn't that I'm not authentic, I suppose I'm just not fully authentic for fear it would scare most people away. There is likely some wisdom to that.... knowing the "time and place" to be fully exposed emotionally/spiritually. I would say that this phenomenon I experience is the cause of a certain sense of loneliness amongst believers.... fully functional, active believers can quite honestly feel very, very alone.

My Uncle, my mom's only sibling, was the model, stereotypical, highly-praised Christian man. He was single, devoted to music ministry, a gifted pianist, and a missionary t'boot. He owned umpteen bibles, umpteen cds, and umpteen Christian books. He had scripture scribbled EVERYWHERE....on post-its and note cards all over his house. By any typical church standard, he really had it together.

A few months ago, I received one of the worst phone calls of my life. I had gone out for a long jog. In fact I ran more than 4 miles that particular day. I was exhausted, but in a good way. I love to jog alone, with no music, and meditate or talk to the Lord.. As I was walking up to my front door, my oldest son greeted me with a look of distress on his face. He said, "Uncle Cary is dead, mom. Uncle Cary is dead. You have to call Aunt Stacia." I immediately thought he had a heart attack or there was a terrible accident. I called my sister who was crying and could hardly speak. She handed the phone off to my brother-in-law who told me that Cary had taken his own life. I honestly don't know how actresses do it, because I don't think I could ever replicate the horror that instantly came out of me. I have never made those sounds nor have I ever cried like that before. I was overwhelmed by grief, sadness, and deep, deep despair. How could this have happened? How could this be real?

The weeks that followed were just full of things that no one wants to do or experience. Since he was single, my sisters and I went through his personal things basically, so my mother wouldn't have to. We sorted through the typical junk and stuff everyone has in their house. In our pilfering, we came across his personal notes and journals. They were full of despair. Such sadness, grief, anger, and despair. He was disconnected from the body......isolated and alone. Did he reach out? Did he try? I am convinced that his heart was so guarded, that no one knew the depths of his authentic self. No one was allowed in for assumed rejection or disdain. What a torturous place to be.


I really haven't known what to do with a lot of my feelings towards my uncle. If it is one thing I've learned about death, it is that life doesn't stop for it. My kids and my husband have all needed me at the same rate as before my uncle died. Once I returned home, there were meals to cook, lessons to teach, and laundry to do (as always). I pressed on with the immediate, not knowing how to process the past. I thought I would just "move on," but every now and then I'm overcome by the loss of him. He was such a gift. An amazing gift to this world. Why didn't he know it? He was surrounded by love. He just couldn't see it.... He just couldn't see it.