Of course, for a Christian, death is not the end. Even so, death is a horizon over which we cannot see. Immortality, at times, can seem like a mere wish.
Last night I had a dream. My dreams tend to be pretty realistic, as opposed to fantastical. I kind of envy people whose dreams seem to be, well, more imaginative and fun. In my dream, I was on a bus in my hometown. The bus was driving down one of that city's main thoroughfares, making its way toward my house, which was just off the furthest northern end of this boulevard. The dream started with the bus pulling into a bus stop.
This stop would've been the last one before I got off the bus. Once the bus stopped, one person stood up to get off. I recognized this person as a dear friend. So, I stood up and greeted her enthusiastically. Moving past me to get off the bus, she managed a curt "Hi" with an equally curt glance. She exited without looking back. I sat there devastated. End of dream.
I woke up still feeling the way I did at the end of the dream. It took me a minute to realize that it was a dream and not an actual occurrence and to shake it off.
As I laid there reflecting on my dream, I realized the friend was amalgam of two friends but the appearanceo of the person in the dream wasn't in the least bit odd. They are people I met at different points in my life and with whom I've had quite different relationships over years. One has more or less "unfriended" me and the other has inexplicably gone from a relationship communicating back and forth to me checking in once in a while with answers indicating that with a short, polite reply the conversation is done- have a nice day.
I readily admit that I am not a great friend. Like most men my age in this culture, I don't really have many friends. While I am at it, I am not a great son, husband, father, or cousin either. Some of this is driven by the fact that I am an introvert. One aspect of growing older for me is being more gracious in accepting my limitations and knowing what they are.
I am not writing that out of self-pity, as easy as that is for me to do, but as a way of facing reality. Most days, I find myself older and none the wiser. Beyond that, like most middle-aged men, I have developed something of a hardened shell, a protective layer. It's a battle sometimes to keep sorrow from turning into self-pity. Sometimes I lose the battle.
Considering Met. Kallistos' wise observation that "the secret of true life is to accept each state as it comes," the only sense I could make of the dream that was not self-pitying is that the bus ride is my journey. On this journey, most people only travel with me part of the way. This is okay, maybe even how it's supposed to be. From my youngest years, I have found life a bit heartbreaking. Plus, all relationships wax and wane.
What I want to genuniely feel and say with deepest sincerity is "May God bless them on their journeys." I hope my probably not-that-great friendship was of some benefit to them along their way and that they know, somewhere in their hearts, how truly I appreciate their love, care, and concern for me.
I can see this as part of the interior work I mentioned in yesterday's post. With respect to the loss of friendship- trying to be grateful and not bitter while working through disappointment. Lord, hear my prayer.
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