I Weep

I left the blinds open last night and woke to a beautiful sunrise – dusky colours over the ocean, but alongside the beauty of the new day was the dread of what this day holds.

We have had 2 weeks now to get used to the idea that Sam is dead, but I feel like it hasn’t really sunk in. And words often feel inadequate to express what is inexpressible. So maybe tears are all we have…

I Weep

I weep for the time we no longer have

For the man I will not see you become

For the world which is poorer for your leaving.

I weep for the people who will not meet you

And know simple love and acceptance in your presence

For those who others ignore, but whom you always saw

I weep for your mother who prayed so earnestly for your arrival

Who gave her life to shaping yours

And now must cope with the loss – the quiet – the family minus crazy

I weep for your sister who loved you like no other

Who is lost and bereft – bravely trying to carry on

But broken and shaken on the inside

I weep for the surfs we will no longer share

For those rich conversations we enjoyed – now no longer

The questions I will no longer ponder with you

And for the woman you left behind who was soon to be your wife

Brave and beautiful – kind and creative 

It would have been a wonderful match

I weep for our family who have already known so much loss

Another one – preventable – unnecessary – so many words…

But it is done and there are no second chances – no fix we can hack for this one

I weep for your friends – so many who loved you

Even when you struggled to see anything of worth in yourself

Those friends knew your care, your loyalty and love

I weep for the grandchildren we will not know

For the shrinking of our already tiny family

And the absence of the one who brought such joy and warmth

I weep for the church who lost a thoughtful, courageous leader

A young man with genuine, practical faith

Whose sharp mind and soft heart would have helped shape the future 

I weep for your clients who now notice your absence

Who will miss your sincere and thoughtful care

Your love for the strugglers, the odd, the outsiders

I weep for the dreams that now are no longer

The infamous troopie trips, the lap of Oz you would surely have done

The adventures you, Cosi and your tribe would have shared

I weep for the neighbourhood you would have lived in

For the people who just need a truly good man in their orbit

For the young men who will not experience your influence

I weep for the challenges and questions that will not get raised without you around

For the unwillingness to settle for trite or weak answers

For your ability to listen and then disagree – but with love

I weep for the laughter we will not share

For the pranks we will no longer hear of

The hot marketplace deals you will no longer send my way

I weep for the battles we will no longer fight with you

For the victories we would hear about

And the hope for a better future and a settled mind

I weep for us – for the men we were going to be together

For the way we were going to shape our families

Jesus at centre – our inherited dysfunctions finally put to bed

I weep for myself because I have lost my son

The curious and kind little boy 

Who became a strong and good man

I weep for the conversations we will not have

For the hugs that are now gone

And for the ever present ‘love you’ at the end of every conversation.

I weep because I have no words 

To describe the pain of touching your face that last time

The rich hope of God’s kingdom coming our only constant as we carry on

9 thoughts on “I Weep

  1. Oh Hamo. How we weep with you and for you – for all that was lost and will never be. I wish I could be there today to honour Sam and his incredible family but I am away. Ryan and Fin will be there. May God hold you in the hollow of his hand.

  2. Oh Andrew, I have never been influenced so much by the death of someone I hardly know.
    You have done so well in describing your not only sorrow but also your the eternal hope that you have, it has been so very touching.

    Thank you and bless you all.

  3. Thanks for inviting us in to your tears.
    Today by the beach with all of you was a gift, even though it was experienced from afar.

  4. There are so many huge nuances of loss in your stanzas above, each absolutely gigantic in their unfixability, so many threads that leave the mouth agape and moisten the eye. I think it helps to identify each of the myriad losses, the layers, or at least to try, and imagine the unfathomable depths, which serve to validate that the tremenous unfixable pain is so complex it cannot even be defined. Thank you for sharing your courage so we can weep with you, though it will always seem a chasm, always your most personal loss, not ours. All I can say (for words are so useless) is I admire your courage! You are all much loved, and Sam lives on in you.

  5. Your wonderful words leave nothing unsaid Andrew and Danelle I hold you both in high esteem for you all,, thank you for sharing and baring your soul, your raw honesty, there is nothing to add except may Grace be upon you all and give you peace and understanding

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