andrewlittle
06-02-2008, 11:41 AM
I took my first Sunday off from serving the church this past Sunday. I went to Columbus to do two things - the first to attend the graduation party for the daughter of our dearest friends - the second to finalize the steps for passing off the treasurer's hat for my home church after doing that job for eight years.
While at St Andrew Pres on Sunday, I was approached by a man - an eccentric homeless man - who knew my uncle. He told me that Jack had died two months ago. He also said that no-one had written an obituary, and that Jack had died destitute and alone.
After my ordination, Jenna told me that she had seen a very small, frail, disshevelled man being seated in the back by another man. He had left immediately after the service, and I never saw him. I found out on Sunday that this man was my Uncle Jack. This, then, is my obituary for my Uncle Jack.
Jack E. Reall died on an unknown - or at least, unverifiable - day in a place and of an illness that is unknown to me. Jack is survived by two children, both of whom he has been estranged from for over twenty years, three ex-wives, two sisters, a brother, and a number of nieces and nephews from whom he was also estranged.
Jack was raised in a family that couldn't spell dysfunction, but which lived it daily in all its gory details. Jack learned, at a very young age, that to love was to be hurt - physically, emotionally and spiritually. Jack, therefore, lived out his life loving the same way - by hurting people. Unlike many of us in this family, however, Jack had a deep desire to love and recognized that how he lived out his "love" was an anethema to its very meaning. Jack's psyche could no longer deal with his internal conflict and Jack "stepped out" from the rational world we each inhabit.
Jack's dis-ability to love was heightened by his tour of duties in Vietnam. As a delinquent, he was "enlisted" by his mother, who lied about his age (he was 16), into the Marines so that "he could become a man." And what a man he became. Jack, over the years, lost more and more of his ability to distinguish between his nightmares and the realities around him. A flash of light reflected off a kitchen knife became cause for defensive actions - most of which hurt someone. A sudden noise would result in those closest to him being hurled to the ground and covered by his body to protect them. The sight of a child bleeding, from even the smallest of cuts, threw him into depths of depression and self-loathing that can only be considered torturous. Still, he earned an honorable discharge - after of course serving an extra six years that was added on to his time as a result of the hospital time he endured for the "self-inflicted wounds" - that was the current euphemism for suicide attempts.
So we have Jack, taught that love hurts by his family and taught to kill efficiently and instantly in a great number of ways by his government, who couldn't conscience hurting people any longer. His solution to his internal conflict was to become invisible - to step out of the society that had taught him so well, and to become another faceless, nameless, homeless person. And I can only surmise that the reason Jack did this was so that he - a man who so dearly wanted to be loved - would not continue to hurt those he loved.
Uncle Jack, i LOVE YOU. Rest well in the hands of your creator. I pray you have found the peace you so longingly wished for. And, jack, forgive me for not trying harder to love you.
While at St Andrew Pres on Sunday, I was approached by a man - an eccentric homeless man - who knew my uncle. He told me that Jack had died two months ago. He also said that no-one had written an obituary, and that Jack had died destitute and alone.
After my ordination, Jenna told me that she had seen a very small, frail, disshevelled man being seated in the back by another man. He had left immediately after the service, and I never saw him. I found out on Sunday that this man was my Uncle Jack. This, then, is my obituary for my Uncle Jack.
Jack E. Reall died on an unknown - or at least, unverifiable - day in a place and of an illness that is unknown to me. Jack is survived by two children, both of whom he has been estranged from for over twenty years, three ex-wives, two sisters, a brother, and a number of nieces and nephews from whom he was also estranged.
Jack was raised in a family that couldn't spell dysfunction, but which lived it daily in all its gory details. Jack learned, at a very young age, that to love was to be hurt - physically, emotionally and spiritually. Jack, therefore, lived out his life loving the same way - by hurting people. Unlike many of us in this family, however, Jack had a deep desire to love and recognized that how he lived out his "love" was an anethema to its very meaning. Jack's psyche could no longer deal with his internal conflict and Jack "stepped out" from the rational world we each inhabit.
Jack's dis-ability to love was heightened by his tour of duties in Vietnam. As a delinquent, he was "enlisted" by his mother, who lied about his age (he was 16), into the Marines so that "he could become a man." And what a man he became. Jack, over the years, lost more and more of his ability to distinguish between his nightmares and the realities around him. A flash of light reflected off a kitchen knife became cause for defensive actions - most of which hurt someone. A sudden noise would result in those closest to him being hurled to the ground and covered by his body to protect them. The sight of a child bleeding, from even the smallest of cuts, threw him into depths of depression and self-loathing that can only be considered torturous. Still, he earned an honorable discharge - after of course serving an extra six years that was added on to his time as a result of the hospital time he endured for the "self-inflicted wounds" - that was the current euphemism for suicide attempts.
So we have Jack, taught that love hurts by his family and taught to kill efficiently and instantly in a great number of ways by his government, who couldn't conscience hurting people any longer. His solution to his internal conflict was to become invisible - to step out of the society that had taught him so well, and to become another faceless, nameless, homeless person. And I can only surmise that the reason Jack did this was so that he - a man who so dearly wanted to be loved - would not continue to hurt those he loved.
Uncle Jack, i LOVE YOU. Rest well in the hands of your creator. I pray you have found the peace you so longingly wished for. And, jack, forgive me for not trying harder to love you.