I found this today, something I wrote almost exactly two years ago. I sent it in an email to just a few close people, feeling intensely grateful for them and this life. While my world is so different, it felt meaningful to come across this seemly by accident. As Pope Saint John Paul II has said, “there are no coincidences, only parts of God’s plan not yet fully understood”.

Time, 10.19.2020

There are times in my life when messages and signs converge, often with some poignant realization or long overdue acceptance on my part. Over the last few weeks I have seen friends and family share pictures on social media, going on trips or visiting places with their children or family. The Fall, even across the country and especially due to months of indoor isolation, has created gorgeous backdrops for pumpkin patches, orchards and even wineries. The breeze, blue skies and cornucopia of yellow, red and orange leaves alongside cider and smoke from fire pits have allowed me to see, smell and even taste the season, vicariously through others. This is one of the great gifts of social media. But it has also resulted in a sense of missing out. That I should be out more, spending real time with Jen and the kids. In the real world. Doing real things.

The last two weekends, Jen has planned events for us at farms and orchards. Exactly what I had been yearning for. I was alarmed several weeks ago when I heard myself tell her that I get so busy and stressed at work, I really don’t want to do anything or think about anything when I’m at home. I was alarmed and saddened. To realize that my life is becoming, what it was only supposed to be waiting for. Until the summer. Until vacation. Until the weekend. Until I get home. That my life was dripping through my fingers as I thought, but did not really do what I wanted my life, our lives, to be about.

My late teacher, Pamana Tuhon Sayoc had told us once that, “because we cannot get it back, time is our most valuable commodity.” He explained that while we can lose and get back things like money, or even health, time is something we can never get back. So, he said that we should be stingy with our time. If it is our most precious thing, we should not spend it carelessly with people we don’t want to spend it on. And we should be intentional to spend it most with those that we love. This morning, as I listened to mass in the shower, Fr. Rich said in his homily an almost identical sentiment. He said, “time is our most valuable asset”, and went on to explain word by word what I had heard years before. That is what The Lord had said in today’s Gospel. Because we never know when our lives might be demanded from us. We should live in the here and now, rather than planning to start living at some point in the future.

On the drive in, I chose to listen to Fr. Mike Schmitz and in his homily from last weekend, he referenced Rubin “Hurricane” Carter. And that after decades of being wrongfully imprisoned he decided not to sue, or seek damages or compensation from the time he was incarcerated. Apparently he said that although he was behind bars, he chose to live as a free man. And that if he sought anything from anyone, it would be an admittance that something had been taken from him. But he did not see it that way. Though in prison, he believed he became the man he wanted to become. Five years ago we went on pilgrimage to Lourdes where I met and spent quite some time with another father of a child with special needs. In a very unexpected moment, I was surprised to hear him say that his biggest regret was not suing sooner. Since that day I have been trying to reconcile that with my own decision. Jennifer and I haven’t sued. We still have an opportunity, although that window is closing. Should we have? Were there mistakes made? Should we still?

I don’t know when but at some point, God’s Grace allowed us to see William as he is. A beautiful gift and blessing, rather than a damaged imperfection. Listening to Fr. Mike’s voice this morning immediately brought me to tears, as he spoke a great truth that I had never been able to put the words to with our baby boy. I have struggled over the last sixteen years to define my thoughts and emotions with our life with William. There isn’t a day that I don’t remember falling to my knees, seeing his baptism behind flimsy partitions, or weeping with Jennifer in our room. But there isn’t a day that I don’t think of the first time I really spent time with him, just sitting on our futon for hours getting to know him. The trips we took, walking around New York City. The dark room sleeping next to him for sleep studies at Kennedy Krieger, or at his bedside last year in the PICU at Maryland.

There is a scene in the movie Courageous that I was just recounting to a colleague, wherein a man put on a fancy suit to attend a special ceremony. As he looks at himself in the mirror his wife is there at his side. And it is here where even now as I write this I do get choked up. He says, “I feel like a rich man.” She answers with, “You are a rich man. You have a strong faith, children that love you… a wife that adores you.” CS Lewis wrote that, “God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our consciences, but shouts in our pains.” There are so many instances, not just for me but for any of us that we look up at the sky and pray for an answer. We wish for some guidance, some direction. We hope to hear something back. But every so often I do. When messages and signs converge, to some poignant realization, long overdue.

My life did in fact become what I was waiting for. It is a life of time spent with my loved ones, making memories in time that I can never get, nor want to give back. It is a life spent intentionally with shoe that I love. It is a life that became what I had always dreamed of becoming, full of sadness but also full of joy. Rich in faith, children and my wife. Full of God’s whisper, word and voice.