and prayer and death
4 years next month. I was reminded today of the final lines in A Prayer for Owen Meany:
When we held Owen Meany above our heads, when we passed him back and forth — so effortlessly — we believed that Owen weighed nothing at all. We did not realize that there were forces beyond our play. Now I know they were the forces that contributed to our illusion of Owen’s weightlessness: they were the forces we didn’t have the faith to feel, they were the forces we failed to believe in — and they were also lifting up Owen Meany, taking him out of our hands. O God — please give him back! I shall keep asking You.
and whether the sun is shining or the rain is pelting down upon my life, I think of you and so often I beg of God to give you back to us, to undo your mistake. Somewhere in the recesses of my heart I think to myself there must be a way. Meany was your favorite book, Vern is right, you knew you bastard, you knew what you were going to put us through.
Andrew and Rebecca’s anniversary is today, 3 years ago, the Caribbean wedding that you were absent for. Your sister gave birth to her second child, a baby boy, another one that you will never meet. Your own child will be coming to visit us late this month, just a week before the anniversary of that horrible day. Every moment of consequence shared by us members of your tribe is diminished because we instinctively look to share it with you and you are gone and in this way and for this reason, the grief seems to go on endlessly.
The world gave your mother such a hard time for taking so long to emerge from her grief, my god those people don’t understand, I know it will never end for me and I will shed tears for you from now until I too am dead. I know that I cannot imagine what it must be like for your mother.
So much has happened, to, with and for me in the last few years, the same with Drew and Vern and your sister. though Drew might be hesitant to admit it, we miss you, I miss you and I hate that May and June are spent thinking so much about how much I miss you.