It hurts
“And it came to pass, while he blessed them, he was parted from them, and carried up into heaven.” Luke 24:51 KJV
I lifted the metal cover off the container that kept the eggs warm. As the large silver spoon glazed across the warm eggs, it gathered the scrambled eggs which I promptly laid on my plate. The plate was clean but it had probably been used a hundred times before. I looked around the room and saw all the historic pictures of this establishment over the years. My thoughts returned to filling my plate with one of those good old fashioned breakfast, yet it just wasn’t the same as the countless times I have done this here before. I returned to the table my wife and I had picked out as soon as we entered. Before her sat a big bowl of oatmeal with an abundance of toppings, just the way she likes it.
King George is a small little town and county. It boasts that it is the Gateway to the Northern Neck (of eastern Virginia). President James Madison was born here, in our county. Howard’s, the little down home restaurant I was having breakfast at, sits it what is probably best described as downtown King George. Someone driving by probably would just pass it by as “one of those little dives.” But here in King George it is an institution. All of us “locals” frequent the place often. We know the waitresses by name and we share and listen to local gossip as they travel from table to table. From the outside, it might not look like much, but it is our little place.
In the Fredericksburg paper (the closest “big town”) last week, the news came out that, after 18 years, Howard’s Restaurant was closing at the first of the year. The reaction of everyone was the same: “Noooooooooooooooooo!” I don’t know how someone can get attached to a restaurant, but a lot of us have. Every single person we have ever taken to “our little restaurant” has been very impressed. It was like stepping back in time. Maybe now you can understand why my appetite wasn’t nearly as big as it is most times I’ve walked through those doors.
Having your father missing from your life has to be hard. But what happens when your mother decides to leave you, too. She leaves you with her parents, yet she takes your half-sister with her to live in a far off land? Add into the mix, the fact that you don’t look, nor do you act, like any of the locals. Not enough? Let’s just say you have all this happen to you by the age of ten years old.
Being a little ten year old boy is tough enough, but image walking into your new school on the first day. Other ten year old boys notice your “oddness” and they pounce on it quickly. I guess they think making someone else look weak makes them look strong. In an effort to fit in he made up elaborate stories about his Dad. In one, he claimed that his Father was a prince in a far off land.
They were a close bunch and he kept them together despite their many differences. He taught them so much and like most relationships, at the start, they thought it would never end. He just, somehow, seemed to make their world different, special even. They trusted in him and they thought the relationship would never end. As he was taken away they stared in disbelief. Then when he was executed, their whole worlds were crushed.
I’m not sure which is harder: having someone close to you slip out of your life or having someone close to you slip out of your life, only to return and then slip out of your life again.
Our little ten year old’s father made a return trip, for a month, to see his son. This upset the young lad. What, I believe upset the lad the most, was that the father wanted to step back into his life and command the kid like he had never been gone, but the lad knew his father was only staying for a month. The young lad knew what kind of father he really had. His father was a drunk and a womanizer and he liked to be in charge. He really couldn’t wait for the month to be over so his dad would leave.
Then one of his worst fears happened. A couple of his teachers heard that his father had returned to see his son. The prince was returning from his kingdom to gloat proudly on his heir. But the truth was he wasn’t really a prince. He wasn’t really even that nice of a person. The teachers, not knowing this, asked the father to come into the classroom and to talk to the students about the far off land he came from. The lad was really afraid he would be found out. As the father gave his little speech the crowd was amazed at the tales of how the young boys in his land had to kill lions to claim their manhood.
The disciples were deeply troubled by Jesus’ death. Their whole world seemed to end. But after three days Jesus returned to life and paid them several visits. Their hope returned. A new spirit engulfed them and life seemed better than ever. But almost as quickly as He returned to them, He departed, again. As He was with them He was lifted up into heaven. He was gone a second time.
Our young lad watched as his father walked down the hallway of his school after his speech. He watched as he slipped out the doors. It would be the last time Barack Obama would see his father. His father would return to Kenya. When Obama was a senior at Columbia his dad went out drinking one day and got in a car to drive home. He would not make it home. His car veered off the road and crashed into the stump of a gum tree. He died instantly.
Life is so strange at times. It sits right before us one day and is gone the next. We are hurt by the absence that is felt by its departure. We just don’t understand why it has to be this way. What could possibly be worse? I guess it could be worse if something or someone departed and we didn’t even care or notice.
Prayer: Dear Mighty Father, Thank you so much for Howard’s. Please bless his wife and him as they start a new part of their life together. Please be with all their employees and help them find new jobs. Thank you for those times I care so much that it hurts when it was gone. Amen.
