05.24.07
Graduation Day
Whew, what a day it’s been! I anticipated all week that Westminster’s g””raduation would probably be pretty emotional for me this year, as it was last year, and that proved true.
This week one year ago was a humdinger. On the Friday before graduation last year Al ended up in the hospital with a blood clot in his leg, which was extremely painful. In the course of routine testing to make sure they could give him blood thinners, a scan showed up a mass in his brain that had not been there previously. The overwhelming likelihood was that it was melanoma that had metastasized to his brain (which turned out to be correct), and it was in a spot that had the distinct potential to affect Al’s personality—something that was pretty scary to think about. He was released from the hospital in time to attend Ed Welch’s daughter’s wedding, in which Becky was a bridesmaid. That was an emotional time from every angle—sharing the great joy of Ed and his daughter Lisa, watching them walk down the aisle and dance the father-daughter dance at the reception, seeing Becky come down the aisle looking beautiful, knowing that she and Al would not share those father–daughter wedding joys in the future.
Then there was also some doubt last year as to whether Al would be able to participate in graduation due to the incapacitating pain in his leg. But he went in a wheel chair, and as Academic Dean he had the privilege of reading the names of all the graduates as they received their diplomas, and then with his leg propped up on a high stool, he gave the charge to the graduating class. He was so thrilled to be there and to be able to be part of sending the class of 2006 off into kingdom service. I sat in the back and bawled, knowing, as we all did, that that would almost certainly be Al’s last graduation. I thought of the time in a few years when, Lord willing, Alasdair and I (and perhaps Lauren) will cross the stage in cap and gown without Al there to see it. It was an emotional time.
Thrown into that week last year we also had a whirlwind visit from Becky, Alden’s long-standing soccer team suddenly folded, and Eowyn was caught in a friend’s consuming teenage crisis.
Now, in 2007, this past week has brought the memories from last year sharply into focus and prompted a number of tears, so I knew today would be probably be draining. In the morning I attended a seminar at Westminster all about the Westminster Hebrew Institute, which was renamed for Al last fall (now “The J. Alan Groves Center for Advanced Biblical Research”). Kirk Lowery, the director, talked with obvious respect and appreciation for Al’s vision and work in starting the center and then about the exciting places the center is heading in the present and the future. (If you are interested in the details, check the Westminster website: wts.edu.) I thought again what a gift Kirk and his co-worker Steve have been to Al and how wonderful it is to see the project that Al began now moving forward in such innovative and beneficial ways.
Also today the new Westminster Bulletin (a publication of the seminary) came out, and it is an edition honoring Al, including wonderful reflections written by former students. Many people find that one of the hardest parts of grieving is that they feel so isolated and alone. What a blessing it is to us to have so many people who remember Al and who walk through this time of mourning with us!
Graduation itself was moving, seeing the graduates—my fellow classmates and friends—receive the degrees they have worked so hard for. Mike Kelly gave the charge to the graduates this year, and he built off of Al’s charge from last year. It was excellent. At the end he closed with a blessing that Al prayed countless times around our dinner table as well as with many other people—that [the graduates] would have eyes to see Jesus, ears to hear him speaking, and hearts to be filled with his spirit. At that point I broke down. But the whole thing was lovely, and I saw old friends who were back in town and met new ones, many of whom shared great stories of Al and how he impacted their lives. More tears, of course, but such a blessing.
What I didn’t anticipate today was getting a phone call in the morning from Alasdair’s summer boss saying that Alasdair had had a bike accident on the way to work and had broken his arm quite badly. I saw him and Lauren in the ER between the morning seminar and graduation, and the arm did indeed look pretty deformed. Sounds as if it will need surgery, but when that will happen hasn’t been determined yet. This Sunday Lauren’s brother is getting married in upstate NY, and Lauren and Alasdair are both in the wedding, which hopefully will work out okay. This broken arm also puts rather a crimp in Alasdair’s summer job as a carpenter, which is a bummer on lots of levels. But the Lord will make the way clear.
Then this afternoon Becky told me that today she learned some unpleasant news relative to work. Her company used to have six on-site managers in this region, of which she was one. Two people left, so they consolidated the positions into four jobs. Since that time, the other three managers have left, so Becky has been covering one position, her boss has been covering one, and the others have been left empty. Needless to say this has caused plenty of stress at work. Today Becky learned that her boss is resigning! That leaves her alone with no fellow managers in the (originally) six slots and with no boss. Not a good situation.
Becky also talked about the wedding she attended last weekend, which was the first one she’s been to since Al died, and which also happened to take place on the one-year anniversary of Lisa’s wedding that I mentioned above. She couldn’t help shedding lots of tears, as you can imagine, trying to be inconspicuous in the process.
My eyes feel like sand pits from all the crying I’ve done today, but I also see the Lord’s hand of blessing so clearly. For instance, I can say with enormous thanks that the scary prospect of Al’s personality changing never materialized. He was completely himself, gracious, patient, loving, and enjoying people literally up to the point when he lost consciousness. Five days before he died he became spatially disoriented, so that after a trip to the bathroom he didn’t know which room he was supposed to go back to or how to get there, and four days before he died, he was unable to get out of bed and didn’t know how to find the cup of water at his bedside, but he still knew every person he saw just as sharply as he ever had, and he interacted with them with obvious delight. Even when he had little strength and talking was an effort, it was clear that he enjoyed seeing people as thoroughly as he always had. Forty-eight hours before he died we had a room full of a dozen recent college grads singing around his bed, and he wanted to be sure he knew or learned each one of their names. What a mercy from the Lord that Al was fully himself right up to the end!
Today he would have been a little embarrassed but also honored and pleased to have been remembered at graduation. And the surprising discovery that just by being himself and loving the Lord with his whole heart he had impacted so many students and others with God’s love and grace would have been (and in fact was) a crowning blessing in his life.
God is so good. I’ve seen and been amazed at his unbelievably personalized, tender care for us in other ways this past week too. In one case I was so blown away by the intimacy and magnitude of his care for us through his people that I bowed my head right there over the soapy dishes and simply sobbed in amazement at his love. It is breath-taking.
May you too be held in his tender arms. And congratulations to all you graduates!
Libbie