The Divine Mystery of the Seat Belt

Duncan_Aldridge_ The_Divine_Mystery_of_the_Seat_Belt.jpeg

I was out walking with my Dad on Good Friday. He’s deteriorated over the Winter, his walking is precariously slower and he becomes confused more easily. In the car I have a thing about his seatbelt. In a world where so much is done for him, I cajole and coax him to put this on himself, yet it’s so challenging. On our trips I’m committed to letting him do this alongside my gentle guidance; I want his brain to stay active as long as possible.

He really struggles now with plugging the belt in. I’m full of compassion. I want him to keep his dignity. Please God, leave him some of this.

“You - do it” he says.

I gently gesture and make to guide his hand, he tries again.

Time shifts beneath the surface. I don’t want him to suffer. When would it be more compassionate to…

Click.

We did it.

On the way home I play music in the car and sometimes we sing. I play Beethoven, Miles Davis, Genesis - the music we shared years ago when we first began to connect.

We’re half way home. I’m learning to feel what’s going on with my Dad. My heart turns towards him. I feel myself opening.

“Duncan -” he speaks softly and tenderly. “You’re - a good man.”

Whatever is happening in there, however much the Alzheimer’s is taking hold, Dad is feeling more. Whatever confusion he is in, he has moments of feeling deeply alive. He’s right there. I have a warm felt sense across my chest, emotions rise in me and I feel an indescribable joy.

It’s still Easter. There’s chocolate. Yet looking at the Easter story is challenging. It’s a time of blood, suffering, confusion and then the seemingly impossible. There are so many pieces to it. I can’t work it all out yet in my head. Yet I can feel it.

A friend visits and reminds me that coming closer to God can be a simple turning of the heart towards him. I pray. I sit. I watch Scorsese’s film ‘Silence’ again. On Easter Saturday we wait.

The tectonic plates of heaven shift…

How do you come closer to a felt sense of God? What does that mean for you?

Click.

“Well done” I say. Dad smiles.

We sit alongside each other for a moment, ready to drive home.

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Inherent Worthiness is our Birthright

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Our Goodness is Outside of What We Know