December 14, 2012

• Love and immortality

  I worry about my son’s safety.  My wife and I often talk about our hopes for our son and above all, I wish that he will have a long life free of illness.  I would choose an average-in-the-eyes-of-the-world son with a long healthy life over having a brilliant prodigy who dies decades too soon every day of the week and twice on Sunday.  And as any parent, I worry about my child. 

  When I look back at my life, I am oft to tell my wife that I am amazed that I have managed to get this far without any major injuries.  When I was elementary school age I used to climb up and jump off the roof of my house for fun with nary an injury. I used to chase after footballs/baseballs/basketballs into the street without looking both ways for oncoming traffic.  As a teenager with poor swimming skills I ventured into the Hawaiian ocean on numerous occasions and ironically my two near drowning episodes happened in the pool, once with a friend and another during swimming lessons.

  We can control–to some extent–our own actions born of stupidity or naivete, but we cannot control the world around us.  Or its evil. 

  What if the 9/11 terrorists delayed their attack by several months?  I was flying in and out of NYC and Boston for interviews that December.  I used to live in Portland and have been by that mall in Oregon where the shooting took place this week.  What if my parents didn’t move us Connecticut to Hawaii as children?  Could I have had a child attending that school today that will be forever stained with a murderer’s blood?

  As a physician I can control my own actions when it comes to my patients. I know that I can do the best job that I can, but the rest is ultimately up to chance and providence.  As a parent, I have come to accept that I can do my best to protect my son but I cannot control the world, neither will I be here forever to shield him come what may.  I have to leave the rest up to chance and providence.

  But I can control how I love him.  My protection cannot remain after I am gone, but my love can.  The barriers I place between him and world will crumble after I am gone but my love will still be there to keep him warm, a love that passed from my father’s father to him, from my father to me, and now from myself to my son.

  The only thing stronger than mankind’s propensity for evil is the redeeming hope that comes from love, even in our darkest days, for while evil can be remembered in perpetuity, it does not and cannot endure in immortality.

  Like love.

  Blessings to you, my son.

  

  • 5:52 pm
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