by Lisa Heaton
Back at home, life would never be the same, and Robin knew it. She and Emma both grieved the loss of Chris’ presence. They tried to fill the hours with games, chatting, reading, and any other activity they could think of, but his absence screamed loudly in the quiet house. Emma had taken no more reservations, even for the weekends. So it was just the two of them, as it was throughout each winter.
Robin talked to Chris often, but in the past week, he had not called. She tried calling on two occasions, but he did not answer his cell phone. Tina called once in between the two calls saying he was sleeping more than before, but she would have him call soon. Still, nothing. After Thanksgiving, Tina called again, but it was not what Robin hoped for. The call was instead to inform her that Chris was moved to hospice care. Robin packed immediately and drove to Boston.
At his bedside, she was not sure if she would be able to talk to him. He was sleeping mostly around the clock. The next step, she was told, would be a coma. Being in his room with him was surreal. The sleeping form was not the man she knew, the one she laughed with and cried with. He was already gone and she missed him terribly. Time, there was never enough of it.
Mostly alone, as Tina worked during the daytime, Robin read aloud to him, especially from his Bible. Flipping through it, she found verses he had circled and read them to him. Many of them, he had read to her while he was still with her at the lake. Tucked inside were folded sheets of paper, but she was careful not to open them. Assuming they were his personal study notes, she moved them to the back of the Book.
Once, he woke up long enough to smile at her, but quickly he drifted off again. Hour after hour, she waited for another waking moment, but one never came. To pass the time, she talked to him. She poured out her heart to him, from the serious to the silly. One morning, she was thinking about Becky and wished she could ask his advice. He would know how to handle things.
“There is something going on with Becky, and I am worried about her. When Tommy took me home he said things were not going so well. But when I talk to her, she seems so in love with him. One thing he said keeps coming to mind; he thinks she is ashamed.” Waving her hand, she stated, “That’s a whole other story, but if that is the case, how do I help her?”
Leaning in, she confessed, “I want to help her the way you have helped me. I want to help people like you did.” Pondering for a moment before going on, she finally confessed, “You know, I think I have been helping Emma, at least some. There is something different in her here lately. She is finally open to hearing about Jesus and how much He loves her. Trust me, that is such a big deal for her.
“I keep thinking about what you said one day, that you felt more purpose over the summer than you had before. That is what I want, to know my purpose. So far, I really don’t think I have one. How sad is that?
“As for Becky, though, I know she will come back in the summer, and I want to reach out to her. I wish you would wake up and help a sister out.” Smiling, she reached for his hand. “I miss you.”
During her third day there, Robin sat quietly reading a book that Tina brought her the night before. When she heard a distinct “psst,” she looked up. He was grinning as much as his condition would allow.
“Hi.” He was terribly weak, but the sight of her there gave him strength he had not known in the past weeks. Knowing the end was so near, his main prayer had been that he might see her once more before he died. Thankfully, she came. Deep inside, he knew she would.
Leaning in, she returned, “Well hi there, sleepy head.”
“I want you to take that.” He was pointing to his Bible on the bedside table.
At first considering refusing it, certain Tina would want it, Robin thought better of it. “It will be my prized possession.”
“I know. That is why I want you to have it.” He drifted off momentarily.
Waiting, she stayed near him, hopeful he would open his eyes again.
When he did, he smiled again. “I think I fell asleep.”
“Just for a second. I am not going anywhere. Sleep all you need to.”
Shaking his head slightly, he motioned for her to come nearer. When she did, he reached his hand up and placed it behind her head, drawing her even nearer. “It is time to pay up.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You said you could never repay me. I said I would think of something.”
She smiled, “You are right, and I said anything.”
“Anything?”
“Anything.”
“Forgive all things.”
“I am trying.” A lump formed in her throat. The counselor was back, and he brought with him tough matters.
“Forgive Mike. Remember, empathy. Forgive God for taking Michael too soon. For in Him we live, and move, and have our being…look that up. It was something I wanted to share but kept falling back asleep. I think I wrote it down. I don’t remember. ”
Robin began to cry and tried to move back. He would not allow her though. His strength in holding her was surprising.
Chris’ voice was fading. “Finally, forgive yourself for taking that nap and for pulling that trigger.”
Her tears began to drop onto his face, and when they did, he pulled her the rest of the way and kissed her cheek. “I love you, Robin.” Looking up into her eyes, he was reminded of sitting with her on the dock the day he told her he would be going back to Boston. He called her his angel. And though he would never tell her at the moment, certain she would mock him if he did, he was sure again she was his angel. What better gift could the Lord supply to usher him into His arms?
“I love you too, Chris. He sent you for me.”
“Please don’t leave me,” he whispered in her ear. “I want you to be here with me when I go.”
“I won’t leave you. I am right here.” She moved onto the bed and lay there with him. The hand holding her head loosened its grip and fell limp. He was asleep again. Lying with him that way for over an hour, she prayed for mercy. She prayed for the Lord to take him home so he would finally be healed. How different this prayer was than the day she held Michael. Finally, trusting God’s plan, she prayed His will be done above all else.
Later that evening, Chris slipped into a coma and never regained consciousness. The next day, he was gone. She was lying next to him when he went to be with Jesus.
At Tina’s house, Robin was thumbing through Chris’ Bible. Curious about the pages she had moved to the back, she took them out. They were all for her. He had been making notes since leaving the lake. In that moment, with her emotions so raw, she was unable to read them, though certain they pertained to her healing. Even in his own death his concern was for her. “Lord,” she whispered, “how could a man be so selfless?”
She hugged the Book tightly to her chest. Once she returned home, she would read every word he left for her. For the time being though, she would do her very best to be a comfort for Tina, and possibly his mother, if she showed up for the funeral. Just as Tina predicted, she never made it to see Chris. He died without having seen her at all.
11
A fter the funeral, Robin arrived home with a tremendously heavy heart. The journey ahead of her had felt less intimidating while Chris was alive. He had become such a close friend in such a short span of time that it truly felt as if she lost a close member of her own family. Emma had driven up for the funeral, and Tommy and Becky came, too. As much as they tried to recount fun stories of him together, they could never stir up the joy they hoped for. He was too young to have been taken. None of them could quite grasp the reality of it. It did not seem real until they lowered his casket into the ground. At that moment, it became all too real.
What was evident that day was that Chris had purpose that spanned well beyond his understanding. The church was filled with hundreds of people, so many in fact, it became standing room only. Many were students whose lives he had touched. Members from his church were a large part as well. He was loved, as he had loved well.
On a pe
rsonal level, she considered her own impact on people and the world around her. Had that been her coffin and her funeral, other than her parents, Emma, and maybe Tommy and Becky, who would attend? At church, she snuck in and out, mindful not to make connections. Her existence was inconsequential for the most part. How can one person make such a great impact and another mean so little? It was a choice he made; she was fully aware of that. Consciously, he chose to look outside of himself, even to the very end, where she lived life looking inward and backward. No wonder she had no idea where she was going since she never looked at the road ahead or the possibilities God placed before her.
For several days, she tried to get back into the groove of daily life. It was impossible. Nothing would ever be the same. Both she and Emma sensed it. It was early December, and the usual excitement of the holidays seemed unbefitting. Her parents were not coming, so it would only be the two of them. At a time they would usually begin to decorate, neither had the heart for it. This would be a sad Christmas. They both felt it.
Sitting in the kitchen one rainy afternoon, they shared a piece of pie. Both were unusually quiet. “What now?” Emma sighed and rested her fork on the plate.
“I think I will go back to school.” Robin had been thinking of taking classes and finishing her degree. She had finished one year while Mike was on his first tour. Then while in California, she was able to complete a second year.
“School for what?”
“I’m not exactly sure. I have two years behind me, and I might as well do something about finishing.” Chris’ contribution into the lives of others had made a lasting impression on her. As much as she desired to help others the way he helped her, she was certain there was a long road ahead for her own healing. Still, there had to be a beginning point, a point at which she set a course to do what she felt such a strong desire to do.
“I think that is a great idea. Will you begin in January?”
“If possible. I have been checking into some schools that offer classes online. I may be too late to begin by this semester, but if not, I think I will try it that way and see how I do. I may be a bit rusty by now.”
Emma reached over the counter and took Robin’s face into her hands. “Hummingbird, if anyone can do it, you can. I believe in you.”
Smiling, her cheeks squeezed between Emma’s fingers, she asked, “Really?”
“Really. You can do this, and I will pay for it.”
The argument over who would pay continued until Robin registered. All through Christmas, even up to the point of writing a check the battle raged. Emma won out and paid for her classes and books. Robin was only taking two to begin with, but she quickly learned two was enough for someone so out of study practice. It was the best decision she could have made, turning the normally dreary winter months into something challenging and exciting.
New England weather in the earliest part of the year was dreadful. Robin stayed in so much, she was certain that when the spring thaw occurred, she would have forgotten how to interact with people. Other than trips out for groceries and going to church, they both hibernated. The one and only thing that could draw her out of the warm house was her treks to Chris’ cabin. Once or twice a week, she went there for counseling sessions, and just as she had done with Chris, she sat in her chair. In the beginning, his empty chair caused such grief she could hardly pray or make progress, but eventually, she found the Wonderful Counselor had taken Chris’ place. In meeting with her new Counselor, she envisioned Jesus seated in the chair across from her. And just as Chris suggested, she talked as she would to him or Emma. She asked the tough questions, and often unfurled the ugliness that was trapped in her heart, such as bitterness, anger, and disappointment. One thing she observed in how the Lord dealt with years’ worth of pain, was that all matters were not to be dealt with at once. He would take her through seasons, a season for bitterness, a season for anger, and so on. It progressed that way from the very beginning.
One day, she read a verse about not conferring with flesh and blood. The Lord used that verse to hammer a truth deep into her heart – He was her source of healing, and finding another human counselor was not her answer. Jesus Himself, inside of her, was to counsel and guide. Once that concept was revealed to her, she never looked back again. She would use Chris’ study notes and ponder all the things he suggested, but her main source of counsel would be the Spirit and the Word. Whether or not she made it to the cabin, each and every day she sought Him through her Bible. The words began to come alive to her.
The upside to the cabin in the wintertime was that she could have a fire. Always, she began with that. Once it was blazing warm, she would begin by reading at whatever place she left off the day before. Trying to keep a normal flow of reading was the key. If she had questions, she learned that looking for the answer could lead her to frustration. It was too precarious to find a verse that seemed to be the answer to a question or concern she faced and try to apply it to her circumstance. Instead, she found that if she simply placed her question or care before the Lord in prayer, then read in her usual manner, the answer would come. While it may not be that day or even within several days, an answer always came. It was the anticipation, the excitement that kept her reading and studying His Word daily. He always showed up, and to her, that was one of the first real and significant truths she learned about the character of her God. He is faithful.
She began reading Chris’ notes just before Christmastime. They were so personal and intimate in knowledge of her heart, that she found them at first to be intensely sorrowful. They brought her more grief than gain in the beginning. But eventually, through the strength of the Spirit, she was able to study them. Over time, the Lord used what Chris wrote to lead her through treacherous waters. While navigating along, she would sometimes imagine Chris sitting quietly with the Lord, asking Him how to best advise her. It was a very sweet and comforting image to contemplate. He cared so much for her, and because he chose to put so much effort into her, she was becoming well.
His first lesson recorded a verse he spoke to her in the hospital. He had said, “For in Him, we live, and move, and have our being.” On the study page, he took the many verses that preceded it and dissected it for her. It was from Acts 17. Toward the goal of her healing over Michael’s death, his point was that God determined the begin date and end date of his life on earth – He determined the bounds of his habitation. He gives all things breath, and it is His right to determine such things.
“That they should seek the Lord, if haply they might feel after him, and find him, though he be not far from every one of us…” (27)
Regarding this verse, his notes expounded the most. As he had done while he counseled her, his assurance again was that God was present in the moment of her greatest pain. No matter what her eyes saw or her heart felt, Jesus was there. Her heart was trying to believe, but her mind could not see it so far. She had hope though that it would come. Of all that lay ahead of her, she knew this was the one area that would require God Himself to open up her understanding and plant that belief in her heart. Her emotions over Michael were still as raw and tender as the day she began talking about him. It was the longest road ahead.
Another of his notes dealt with Mike and forgiveness. He suggested that, in order to have a reference point for empathizing with him, and in doing so traveling the road of forgiveness, she research post-traumatic stress disorder. It was not something to be used as an excuse for his behavior, but it might help her to better appreciate what he experienced when he came home. His compulsion to drink could be better comprehended once she more fully understood what drove that compulsion. His reminder, too, was that Mike also lost his son, right there in the midst of tremendous mental trauma that was already dragging him under.
There were many notes, ones he had obviously poured so much of himself into. As the winter passed, she worked through each of them, some many times. It was in late February that she spent the most time on forgiveness. His words to her, “forgive
all things,” were the theme for that season of her life. Having done as he suggested and read as much as she could find on PTSD, she found empathy came easily. The effects on the brain were enough to convince her of Mike’s inability to control what was happening to him. Then, with the trauma of losing Michael, he was sent over the edge entirely. Alcoholism was a common occurrence in those with PTSD, as a way of self-medicating. Tragically, in his case, the alcohol led to unexpected aggressive and violent tendencies. For whatever reason, as it was with his father, alcohol made him a different man entirely.
Forgiveness, something she was positive she would never grasp, arrived and remained. More than able to forgive him; she began to pray for him, that his mind would remain restored and that he would never again turn to alcohol. More than any other thing, she prayed his heart would heal over losing their son. As much as she grieved Michael’s loss still, she knew Mike did as well. It was in praying for him that she found her truest freedom. No longer did she feel haunted by the end of their marriage, rather, she could look back on those times with a new level of compassion for him.
Hour after hour she reflected upon how much he lost too, his sanity, his son, his wife, his freedom. Even though he was released from prison, she had no doubt that their final year kept him just as bound as it had her. She prayed for Mike’s healing and that he might somehow forgive himself. Memories of the pain and sorrow she saw in his eyes when he came to see her often stole sleep from her. Never had she seen a man more broken.