But there will be no celebration of his birthday tomorrow. There will be no cake and no candles and, most of all, no Jonathan to blow the candles out.
Instead of a birthday, tomorrow will mark an anniversary of sorts. As Pam said earlier today, it will mark the 28th anniversary of when she and I became parents. I became "Dad" on June 10, 1986, and I celebrated my first Father's Day by bringing my new baby boy and my wife home from the hospital.
Almost a week ago Christian returned home after ten weeks in India. We all, of course, were overjoyed to have him home again, and grateful that he was able to get back before Jonathan's birthday. But, nothing is all that predictable anymore, and the combination of Christian's return and Jonathan's looming birthday have made for a new level of extreme in an already emotional roller coaster.
Picking up Christian from the airport was the best moment that I think any of us have had in a very long time. We had missed him terribly. But that night we decided to go out for dinner, and as the four of us piled into the car it suddenly felt as if an arrow pierced my heart. I tried my best to hide my pain, thinking that perhaps I was the only one who noticed it. I didn't want to ruin Christian's homecoming, and I thought I did a pretty good job of maintaining my composure.
A little while after we sat down for dinner, though, Pam mentioned what in retrospect all of us had been thinking in that same moment when we got into the car. All of us, as it turned out, had felt that same pain. There was something terribly wrong about four of us getting into the car together. Our family was broken. We were never supposed to be a family of four.
How unexpected that the four of us just getting in a car together would be so painful.
I know that tomorrow will be a difficult day -- maybe an impossible day. How do you deal with a day that at once marks one of the most joyous and at the same time most painful days of your life?
Pray that God will grant us peace.
