I Did Not Want to be There

Even more years removed from the phone call, I had held him on my lap. Looking at him, loving him but feeling so powerless. I had few memories of being held and protected by my own father, so I swore to him, that baby with those steel blue eyes, that I would always be there for him. I would protect him, shield him from the evils of this dark world, and provide him with my presence, love and strength that would keep him from facing the darkness that I knew only too well. As I think back on that moment I recognize my innocence and naïveté. The darkness was too deep. The sorrow too intense. I wasn’t immune from my own darkness, how could I have stood up to his?

We looked at each other as we entered the elevator. An unspoken word connected our hearts to that which we feared. Maybe it would take us somewhere else. Maybe the fear that gripped our hearts would prove to be unfounded. Maybe all those prayers, prayed so fervently by so many would change what we knew we were soon to face. In slow motion we inched upward to a place neither of us wanted to be.

The door opened too quickly. There was no escape. No place to run. No place to hide. Couldn’t I find someone else to go into that place in which I dreaded? Why did I have to be the grown up? I was too weak, too scared, too fearful. I knew there was no short cut. I had to face the demons that mocked me in my weakness. But it wasn’t about me. But it felt all about me.

So the door opened, despite our hope that we would simply stay in the darkness and solitude of an empty elevator. We wanted to hold the door closed but it was too committed to push us out of our safety into the unknown. So the door slowly creaked open, pushing us forward like an unwanted guest on a cold night. It happened slowly but it seemed to refuse to listen to my pleas that if we could just stay suspended between floors, we would be just fine, yet the door slid open.

And there they were. I don’t remember how many were there but it felt like dozens and dozens of angels. They weren’t angels but yet they were. Friends. So many of them in a waiting room, not waiting for us but waiting to be with him. I could smell the fatigue. And the fear. They weren’t singing but music hung in the air. And so solicitous. “We can leave.” “We don’t want to get in your way.” Oh they were the hope. They were the love. Their presence told us that he wasn’t alone. He had never been alone. Somehow, in the staleness of the air, they were the fresh breath of God.