Grateful That a Father's Work is Never Done

I'm learning to continue my relationship with my son in Heaven.

When I'd rather be advising my son on things I know and hearing about his daily experiences, I am learning to comprehend the world beyond to the extent that it is revealed to us. This is no time for purely rational thinking. My son is in heaven and I know nothing about heaven. I know life in Washington, Oregon, D.C. , Wisconsin, college, the work world, but I don't know heaven. I know a little about dating, friends, marriage, parenting, but I don't know heaven.

From reading, counseling, connecting with people who have been further down this road of living with a loss of a child, I am understanding that I can continue a relationship with my son in heaven. The little I am beginning to understand includes a "heart talk". This amazing connection was a warm, relaxing comfortable feeling beyond what I ever experienced in a face to face discussion.

Maybe my role as a father to my son is to encourage him to freely experience everything before him in heaven without regrets for leaving us behind. My friends are bonding with their college aged children in ways I cannot. If I live in regret and envy, my life will implode. If I live in gratitude for my son's life in heaven, my life will blossom. I'm beginning to feel that fatherhood is not a job that ends at death. All I do today influences my surviving son beyond my days on earth. My son, Aaron who lives in heaven, may still need my support. I believe he does. It will take growth on my part to understand my role. That has to be good.

As I read to Aaron two days before he died "...I can be a father today when you need me most..." That has not changed. Aaron does not need me to be a father to him yesterday, he needs me today. Today I can be that father to Aaron because of the growth and understanding God has enabled for me. Being a better father to a son in heaven will make me a better father to my son on earth. A father's work is never done and that's a good thing.

Peace.
Tom