It was Free, but it Has no Price

I had an unusual experience yesterday, and I thought I should share it.

My sister and I partnered on my dad’s Christmas gifts this year. A couple of years back, I got him a nice bicycle, and he rides it a lot. I thought he needed a decent set of panniers (saddlebags) for it, so he could take his laptop with him to the marina when he visits the boat. We got him a nice Tubus rack and some Ortlieb panniers. I don’t suggest you get these yourself. They are not cheap or even close to it.

Yesterday he asked me for help mounting the tube and bags, and I stopped what I was doing and went to his aid. I had intended to mount them myself, but he was impatient.

The instructions were horrible. In reality, they were not instructions. The rack materials had some printed directions that were not good, and the bags came with tiny diagrams. Maybe that’s what passes for instructions in Germany, where they were made. He wandered off somewhere, and I got the rack installed. Then we worked together on the bags. Very confusing, but we figured it out.

It took a surprisingly long time, but while we worked, I silently thanked God, because the problems gave us more time together.

The seat on the bike had snapped, and it wasn’t on warranty, so he had bought a new one. I installed that for him. He had had a flat tire, and he had had it fixed, so I put the rear wheel and repaired tire on the bike. We got him a special padded laptop bag to go inside the panniers, so we put that in the right bag, and we put his heavy Kryptonite lock in the left bag.

He got on the bike and started off to see how well it worked with the bags. Right away, we saw that his tires were low, so we fixed that. And off he went, slowly pedaling down the road.

I had the strangest feeling as I watched him. I thought back to the late Sixties, when Christmas brought me a bright red bike from Sears. I started out with training wheels, and before long I was riding around the neighborhood, out of my parents’ sight and back. Watching my dad, I realized how they must have felt as they turned me loose on that bike. He weaved a little, and he didn’t go too fast. He kept going and going, farther than I expected, down to an intersection. I wondered whether he would look for approaching cars. I realized that it must have been hard for them, watching me take off into the world, out of their protective grasp. I wished I could reach out and hold him up. I understood how it felt to know that someone you loved might not always be with you, no matter what you did. In some ways we are very powerless.

I also thought about the closeness we now have. It’s a new thing. A few years old. Unexpected. I hate to say it, but my mother’s passing opened the door and made it possible. Without her presence, we have had to deal with each other directly, face to face. She was not there to tell me how he was doing or call me on his behalf.

Twenty years ago, we rarely talked, and he was a hard person to be around. Now I have no closer friend. I’m so grateful. I believe my father didn’t really fall in love with my mother until shortly before she learned she had cancer. By then, there was nothing he could do to make up for the wasted years. Now he has to live with that. By the grace of God, I don’t have that problem with my father. I have been blessed with time to heal the wounds. I think I’m going to have enough time to get him to church. I truly believe that.

Good things keep coming to me. This is among the best. I wish my mother were here to share it, but I think we’ll share it with her eventually, when we are reunited. My sister is drawing closer, too. The horror of this family’s dysfunction is coming to a close. That is a rare gift. Generally, sick families get worse, and the best available remedy is for each member to try to have a healthy life while accepting that the others will never change. That is a sad subsitute for what we have been given.

Is this a testimony? I guess it is.

Don’t give up hope. Don’t give in to laziness and quit trying, to end the pain and frustration of caring. Surely God’s blessings were not crafted for a few special families here and there. Surely, if you try, you can find the help you need.