–Nicholas Wolterstorff, Lament for a Son
So this is it. Life without Vincent. Me no like. I still want him back. Everyday.
Next month is going to be especially difficult. Mother’s Day is May 8. Vincent’s birthday is May 10. My graduation is May 14. We fly out May 16 to visit Rebecca’s parents in the Philippines. Plenty of significant events in the month of May will remind us exactly how much our family shrunk on November 20, 2010. We’ll always be one Vincent short of a complete family. I’ll always be one Vincent short of being a happy daddy.
If the tears are supposed to be helping, I should already be fixed by now. Maybe this is as good as it gets. I suppose it could be worse. I have much to be thankful for compared with most others around the globe. On top of it all, some of my favorite people in this world are still alive. Just not Vincent. A lot will happen before I ever see him again. Too much, I fear.
If I could only catch a glimpse of how Vincent is doing up there in heaven. Even my atheist friends tell me that’s where he is. So it’s unanimous; Vincent is safe and healthy somewhere in heaven. But what exactly is he doing? Learning his ABCs? Riding in a golden stroller pushed an angel? I’d imagine the daycare staff in heaven must be top notch. The toys and snacks are probably phenomenal too. With all the children who have died around the world in recent months, Vincent probably has the most culturally-diverse peer group imaginable.
While Vincent is probably doing just fine these days in the celestial city, I’d still like a post card or a text message once in a while. I’m not expecting him to Skype me or anything ridiculous like that, just something to prove my little boy is alright.
You okay up there, son? What kind of music do they play? Did the angels give you enough blankets? I’m sure they did, but I had to ask since I’m still your dad and everything. Your mother and I miss you terribly. Your brother talks about you all the time. Say ‘hi’ to Grandpa for me. I’ll see you soon.