March
14, 2022
Greetings
from other side,
Dear Dad,
I got your message
yesterday, and I’ve been thinking about ways to respond so you know I’m paying
attention, that I am with you all. I don’t
want it to be awkward, but this will need to be our secret, since usually our
prayers for you there are intended to be more subtle.
I was there yesterday
as you celebrated our birthdays, felt your joy, and heard the laughter, saw the
gifts. And then in that quiet moment, in
between, I heard you say what you always do, and I answered in the only way I am
able.
In truth, you
already see my responses, although some mornings you don’t know it, since you
are aware of so many things for other reasons. But I was there in the wild of the
murmuration, and in the velvet darkness giving way to the crease of cameo rose,
the sound of the small creek singing between the rocks where you pause to say
good morning.
One day you
will tell them about this, but I’ve been with my brothers, watched them and
felt them as they make their way. I grow
as they grow, feel heartache and happiness, sense frustration and hope. Even from where I watch the world unfold,
where there is only light, I know what life feels like there. Shadows, cold starlight, brilliant sun, warmth
of the perfect afghan, rain sluicing on windows. I know.
Something I
have been excited to share with you has to do with prayer. They seem to come in all colors, from the
petition, to praise, to simple conversation.
And sometimes they are acts of love, which from here, are like a kind of
music. Most often we hear these as whirling
swirls of sound, they seem to be with us all the time, like the morning greetings
of birds.
What is especially
beautiful is when I hear a prayer, or a thought from one of you, that is meant
for me personally. I want you to know
about this, somehow, because our prayers for you all arrive in a similar
way. Aunt Leslie says it feels like you
are remembering something special, that’s how it comes to you. I think it’s like when you get a new idea,
that sensation of light in your chest, and the realization of an original
thought in your mind.
It will be
different for each of you, but I think the sensation is similar. When we send a prayer it may seem as a fleeting
thought. Some days you remember a whisp
of a dream, or you pause for what you think is déjà vu. I’m smiling at that, knowing you all feel us,
know we are praying for you.
There are so
many other things for us to talk about, and we will in time. But for now, I simply wanted you to understand
that I know you all wonder, and sense my absence, and I know the moments you
feel sadness, feel loss. And that shares
the same space as the joy and beauty of your lives.
There are some
things I shouldn’t share, those mysteries that need to remain as such. I know you respect this, and that’s the way
you’d want it. But I want you to carry a
message for me.
Tell Sawyer not
to doubt his passions, and that he was right; I got to have a dog, and I am the
luckiest. Harrison should know that his
kindness is felt far more than he knows, and I laugh at almost everything he
thinks is funny. Get word to Carson that
we smell the bread, and we feel his acts of service, and hope grows in the
world. And Katherine, who would be my
friend and sister, whose life radiates out in her children, let her know that their
future is brilliant, and her love continues for ages. Tell Mom that there was never pain, except when
I first knew I would be apart from you all, and that all changed in a moment to
something so glorious that words are too poor to say.
Of course, you
can’t simply tell them, anymore than I can.
But I trust you, and I know will find a way of sharing this all without letting
anyone know our secret. The time will
come when we can sit with coffee, elbows on the table, and share whatever
passes in this time apart. Until that
moment, love that sweet world, know I
hear your prayers, and I am sending mine.
Your grateful
son,
Alexander
Hope
this finds you praying,
David
Copyright
© 2022 David Smith
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