Bad Blood Be Gone in QUOTIDIEN

Bad Blood Be Gone in QUOTIDIEN just now Public

Back when he was 18 years old, David's parents divorced, and he went off the deep end into booze and pot. Because he was finishing high school that year, and his mom had sold the house and moved to Kentucky, Dave went to live with his older brother who was freshly married with a baby on the way.

Before too long, the partying and a laundry list of bad choices led the older brother to make an infinitely hard decision, sending his little brother out on his own to find his own way. The existence of the familial rift this caused endured unto death.

Inviting 'H' to the memorial wasn't a given. I recoiled at the thought for a moment, but a memory led me down a path that demanded consideration.

Sometimes, as it turns out, history does repeat itself. In our case, it was through a son with his own devastating addictions. Due to David"s own experience as a youth - making the decision to send our own son away, felt like the ultimate treachery....to our son, and to his feud. Rather than openly recognizing the parallel and admitting to his brother that he 'got it', a certain element of pride and no small portion of stubbornness saw him hanging on to his position. As his wife, however, I knew the truth.

I spoke with H after David's death and invited him. I could hear the broken relief in his voice - through his tears. Yesterday, he came and he sat in our living room and shared his good memories. Finally, I began to tell this story I share with you here.

'H' listened silently as I repeated the charges David pressed against him so many years ago as tears slipped silently down his cheeks.

''H', as much as it pained him to admit it, David finally came to understand, but he remained a stubborn, prideful man in this one thing. As his wife - and as your sister - I am telling you that he knew. And what his bull-headed pride prevented him from doing, I do for him now: I lift this barrier. There is nothing left here but love.'

For a second, his lip quivered. Then, this man who looked so much like my husband and their father, stood. He came to me, wrapped his arms about my shoulders and wept for a moment. And then he whispered, 'I came here to give you peace,and instead you give it to me. Thank you.'

Fittingly, the memorial message was on lambs lying with the lion, of conquered fears, of love and forgiveness. Yesterday, we lived Scripture-and our tomorrows will find us blessed because of it.