November 1, All Saints Day: John 11:32-44
When I read John 11 and heard Jesus thundering, “Unbind him and let him go!" I realized I had not forgiven my father.
It’s hard for me to read this weeping scene from John and not think about that Mother’s Day a few years ago. The grief of Jesus, Mary, and Martha conjures my own anger, sadness, and loss at my father’s death.
My mom and I were not enjoying some decadent chocolate dessert, our custom on any other Mother’s Day. And I was far away from my own daughter, feeling the weight of empty arms. I was by my father’s hospice bed, the contraption that had made way for home nurses, oxygen tanks, and comforting opiates.
The morning light splattered through the east window, leaving golden speckles across his sheets. I breathed in the smell of the bleach that held the mold at bay, and I noticed a tinge of decay. It was that particular smell that came with sallow skin and a tilt of the head, signaling the end. I had traveled to Florida because I wanted to be with my mom if my father died. It seemed the least I could do on Mother’s Day.
