28 Today--Rethinking Some Things

Chandler would have been 28 today.

Happy birthday, son.

I don't know how birthdays work after you leave here. Do they start over at year one? Does the concept of a birthday even exist if there's no measurable time as we know it? Will they tell Chandler that so many people are missing him today and wishing him a "happy heavenly birthday"?

Reflecting on Chandler's life, and the process of forging some new sense of normal since his death, has lead me to rethink a lot of things.

For one, I've come to realize that for all our supposed certainties about what the next life looks like, we really cannot comprehend or imagine what it will be. I am comforted by the idea that it is all in the hands of a loving, creative, generous, and kind creator.

For another, I realize as a parent, I have been far too preoccupied with the right boxes.  Chandler lived life big and in ways that often prevented me from checking the right boxes -- "my child has never" or "my child always." After losing Chandler, I came to believe that whether my son, or anyone else, checks the right boxes, that's not the highest concern. Do they love others well? Do they honor their life and their creator by living into each moment as the gift that it is? Chandler did that.

 And finally, I realize that, although I'm supposed to be the "older, wiser" one here, Chandler is teaching me. I always knew my son was a deep thinker. But when I recently read through the beautiful leatherbound journal he kept on his three-month trip to India in 2013, it became clear to me that in many ways, Chandler's level of spiritual attunement and maturity far surpassed my own. He articulated beautifully an idea that has just come to me in my 50s. He was in his early 20s when his wrote this: "I have been told that I must hold onto what I know to be true. If I carefully analyze that command, what it really requests of me is to remain arrogant and static in my spiritual journey for truth."

 Chandler, my sweet boy, the missing just doesn't let up. I wish we were about to sit down to your birthday dinner -- us all wearing shirts and you shirtless -- after which we would hug you and send you off to celebrate with your friends who miss you like crazy too. But the hugs and kisses will have to wait. Not forever. Just for now.

 I don't know what it is about my Chandler Man's lovin', but I like it. I love it. I want some more of it.