Don't Hold On: A Reflection by Fr. David

My son Aidan finished his last day of  high school classes on Wednesday. All the requisite paperwork has been completed, the library books have been returned, and he is good to go for graduation. The next time he has any school work to do, he will be in college. Like a zillion other parents before me, I am trying to get my mind around this, and I keep wondering how it all went by so fast. Adding to my bemusement was the gift Aidan gave to his English teacher on that final day. This is a person he has loved and valued as a teacher and mentor, and who is now pregnant with her first child. So Aidan chose some of his favorite books from childhood to give to her for her own child. These are books he cherished, books he thinks she will love reading to her son or daughter. They include such classics as Do Knights Take Naps?, The Caboose That Got Loose, and my personal favorite, Herb the Vegetarian Dragon. I must have read those books to him and his sister hundreds of times. And I loved it: I loved reading to my kids as much as they loved me reading to them. I haven't looked at those particular books in years, but I knew they were around, a link to a precious time in our life as a family.

And now they are gone.

When I heard he was going to give them away, I confess my first thought was, "No!" It wasn't that I had plans for them: I just didn't want them to disappear. But then I realized what a perfect gift that was, to share something rich and meaningful from his own childhood with someone he knew would value it and use it. So a source of fun, learning and bonding as been passed on to someone else. I do feel sad, but I am also thinking, "Yes: that is how it should be."

Giving away those books, watching my son finish high school, and preparing for the next chapter in our life as a family all touches something deep inside me. I keep thinking of Jesus on the day of his resurrection telling Mary Magdalene not to hold on to him. It's not that he didn't love her anymore or that he would no longer be involved in her life, but the nature of their relationship was changing. To know and love him in a deeper way meant letting go of the old, familiar relationship and opening up to a new one. It all makes sense when Jesus does it in the Bible. It's harder when I have to do it in my own life.

But I do believe that loving means not holding on, not trying to possess or control the ones we love. That is certainly the way God in Christ loves us: with open hands and open heart. My son is no longer a child, but I look forward to loving him as an adult. People dear to me have died over the years, but I look forward to loving them in the life to come. My understanding of God has grown and, I hope, deepened, but I look forward to loving God more fully even as my vision of God changes and expands. We are all in the process of becoming the human beings God calls us to be. That process involves real change and wrenching moments of letting go, but through it all there is one constant: the love of God in whom "we live and move and have our being." And that love we don't have to hold on to: it enfolds us and all those we love each and every moment -- and forever.