It pays to read the fine print . . . I
don’t think that most of us really take the time to read the fine print . . .
even when the print occurs on the rear view mirrors of our cars. Did you know that the rear view mirror on the
passenger side had the words: “Objects in mirror are closer than they appear.” They’re there, and judging by the number of
times I get cut off by drivers merging into my lane, I don’t think too many
people have read the small print that appears there as a warning. This phrase is a required safety warning in
the United States. It is meant to
protect lives.
It has only been a few days since the
unexpected death of my dog, Maddie Rose, to a seizure. It has been a tough couple of days, but they
are getting easier. They have been
getting easier thanks to the love and concern of so many people who have
expressed their thoughts and prayers to us—the family—concerning the death of
our beloved pet. It has been amazing to
see the response each of us has received . . . it is truly good to know that we
are loved and cared for.
Three days ago . . . well, three days
ago, I didn’t know. I didn’t know how
much people loved and cared about any of us.
I was too wrapped up in the process of grief over losing my dog. I was going through all of those stages of
dealing with an unexpected death . . . and, there were tears. Tears that I did not want to shed . . . tears
that I fought . . . but, tears that fell nonetheless. I was too wrapped up in surviving the shock
of it all . . . too wrapped up in the grief . . . to see the outpouring of
concern and love.
Rear view mirrors allow us to see
behind us . . . to have hindsight. They
say that hindsight is 20/20. I don’t
know about that, but in looking back, people who cared were “closer than they appear”. For that, I am thankful. In that feeling of
being lost . . . of being alone . . . of mourning for a loved one . . . relief
and comfort seemed so far off in the distance.
Yet, the reality is that it was closer than I thought.
The previous blog that I wrote about
Maddie’s death had nearly a hundred views in the first 48-hours . . . I was
surprised that the death of my beloved pet would be learned about by those
beyond my family and friends. I was
surprised by the response my children and wife received when they shared the
news on social networks . . . there was an outpouring of love and concern and
prayers for them and the whole family. I
heard from individuals who were kids when I knew them and now are adults with
their own families . . . heard them express their love and concern. I heard from ex-classmates from seminary and
fellow clergy from around the United States . . . heard them express their
condolences and concern. I heard from my
friend—the guy who dragged me into the ministry . . . share his concern and
love. I heard from the friend who
watched our dogs when we were away for too long . . . heard her concern and
love, but more importantly her sorrow at having lost her friend suddenly and
unexpectantly. Heard from those I work
with at the university . . . from members of the wife’s congregation . . . and,
I even heard from the staff of the Partnership Ministry of Montana. What seemed so far away was actually closer
than I ever dreamed.
One of the things that occurs when any
of us experiences a crisis, accident, or situation that hurts us, is that we
experience “tunnel vision”. The world in
which we live and exist suddenly becomes very small . . . we are unable to get
the whole picture . . . we are focusing on surviving. We all do it, and we all need to do it . . .
it is an act of survival. Sadly, these
obscures our view of the real picture of what is happening around us . . . we
are unable to see those objects—those loving individuals—who are actually a lot
closer than they appear in the rear view mirror.
The reality is that I, nor the rest of
the family, was ever alone in the death of Maddie . . . we were surrounded by a
great circle of family, friends, and individuals who cared about us and loved us. They held us in their concern, love, and
prayers . . . concern, love, and prayers that would not let us go in our time
of need. For that I am thankful. It has made a difference.
So, to each of you who expressed your
love and concern for me and the rest of the family, I say “thank you”. You have made a difference and it is good to
know that you care. Your presence has
made a difference . . . and, the sun came up the next day. We will miss our beloved Maddie . . . my
buddy, my dog . . . but, we have appreciated the love that has filled that void
in our lives. Thank you for sharing in
our tears . . . may I—may we—have the opportunity to do the same for you when
the time arises. Those objects in the
rear view mirror are a heck of a lot closer than they appear . . . for that I
am thankful!
