Closing Doors

Yesterday I finished helping my sister pack up the remnants of her old life. We packed and tossed and cleaned for two days and then shut the door of her apartment, as well as the door to the past. What a momentous moment for her, closing that door. She's very guarded with her emotions and even if she wasn't she's taken such a beating in the past six weeks so I'm sure she had mixed feelings.

Had someone told me two months ago Jonas could make me do anything at all, I'd have laughed at them. Yet I found myself cleaning out his fridge and vacuuming his bedroom, working alongside my sister- his wife- in the way he should have been. So many things left undone and unsaid and unaccounted for, so many lives hanging on, stopped as if in midsentence and grappling with how to say what they had hoped to say- needed to say.

I've learned that suicide is truly a selfish act. Did I tell you Jonas committed suicide? Well, he did. He chose to leave a life that so many struggle to hold on to, a life that some endure such hardships as chemotherapy and open-heart surgery to continue. In the aftermath is so much anguish, such pain and anger and grief and turmoil. Eveyone tries to make sense of it while keeping their tidy little world views.

And what can I do? Nothing big, just the little acts of love and sacrifice. My sister doesn't need me to swoop in with big intentions and lofty goals. Instead, I babysit for her, drive her to appointments, help her clean the apartment where her life ended and the next began. Love her. Love her kids. What else is there?

What can you do? Pass on The Father's love to those around you. You never know who has thoughts so dark they can't think through them. You never know when you won't have another chance.