I
became a Godfather at 18
When
I was eighteen, I was asked to be the Godfather for my cousin, Tabitha. I was part of her life as she grew up and we
would regularly get together at my parent’s home.
I watched her over the years grow into a beautiful teenager. Every once in a while, when I happened to
think of it, I wondered, “What does it mean to be a Godfather; how am I
supposed to help her on her spiritual journey through life.”
Tabitha
didn’t seem to want or need a Godfather
I was no longer Catholic while she was growing up; I had grown away
from the religion of my youth, and had become a Unitarian Universalist. I thought Tabitha was doing well on her own,
spiritually and otherwise. She seemed
happy, full of teenage enthusiasms, lots of friends, beautiful and headstrong
as only redheads are. She didn’t seem to
particularly want or need a Godfather.
And I was busy with my own life. I was deeply involved in my church as a
lay-leader, was in private practice as a psychotherapist, had gotten married
and had two very young children. My life
was full and enjoyable and wonderful. My
thoughts about my responsibilities for Tabitha’s journey through life and her
spirituality faded into the background.
In February 1993, my extended family got together for Mardi
Gras. Tabitha was sixteen, involved in
lots of school activities. She had a
gaggle of friends. She was in the band
at school. She was upbeat and excited to
see me and all the rest of the family.
We ate together; we went to parades together; we even talked a little
about nothing in particular in the midst of all that wonderful chaos. A few weeks later, Tabitha had an argument
with her parents and, while they were out at a restaurant, took one of her
father’s rifles and killed herself in her parent’s bedroom.
Suffering
is our negative and persistent response to pain
The word suffering is sometimes used in the very narrow
sense of describing physical pain. But I
define suffering differently. Suffering
is our negative and persistent response to pain, pain that can come from many
sources—from the death of a loved one; physical, mental, emotional, spiritual
trauma or illness; and life stresses, such as personal conflict, economic
hardship, and life’s ordinary and extraordinary changes/transitions. We cannot avoid pain. It is an inevitable part of life. As contemporary Japanese author Haruki
Murakami reminds us: “Pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional.” As much as I believe this, I have, as
probably you have, suffered in response to pain.
Poet Elizabeth Jennings
wrote:
Time does not heal,
It makes a
half-stitched scar
That can be broken
and again you feel
Grief as total as in
its first hour.
My grief over Tabitha felt and feels this way—like a
half-stitched scar that will never ever completely heal, that can be broken
open again and again and again. Some of
this is the normal natural pain of loss, and some was and is my suffering.
Collateral
damage
Pain and suffering can also cause collateral damage, harm to
family, friends, other people who are near those who are in pain or
suffering. In the midst of our own pain 
and suffering we may not realize that our pain may cause pain to those close to
us. Martha and I realized, despite the pain we were both suffering, Tabitha’s death had touched our
children. And we realized that it was
important that our children be told the truth, in an age appropriate way, as
completely and quickly as they were able to take it in. Protecting or shielding them could have
created a web of distortions and misperceptions, and a conspiracy of
silence.
My two young sons knew Tabitha, and had a relationship with
her. We decided to be open with
them. My four year-old son, some weeks
after Tabitha’s death, wrote a letter to her family saying he loved them and
wanted them to know that Tabitha had just lost her feelings.
Life
continues even as we are in pain
Pain brings up strong, overwhelming emotions that feel like
they are going to submerge you, maybe forever.
We suffer when we try to avoid pain; the pain becomes more intense and
long-lasting. Pain can make us question
our meaning and purpose in life, our spiritual beliefs, our ability to cope
with life, because life continues on even as we are in pain.
