Dinner with an old friend

Fifteen or more years ago, I met a brash, tall young man of about 16. I was old enough to be his father; I wanted to do good for him. I wanted to be for him the elder family who cared for him and advised him with wisdom and love and knowledge. Of course, he had a dad, two grandads and a couple of uncles, but I wanted to help. When he acted up, as teens do, I wanted to get him to behave. When he was perplexed, I wanted to be there to help him figure it out. When he took up with a girl I had bad vibes about, I wanted him to listen to me and be cautious. I wanted. I wanted. I wanted.

I did have a lot to give, but I wanted to feel good and to have hime acknowledge and appreciate it. He had a lot of shit yet to live through, and I wanted to help. Not only him, but a couple of others, too. So when his father was unable to father him, when his grandfather tried (and failed) to control him, when life took a dump on him, I wanted to help. But I only was around one day a week. I couldn't break out of the limitations my own life had placed on me. And his girl was soon there 24/7. So he pretty much went through all of it without me. And all the others had prior claims. He went his way, and after about five years, we lost touch. My brain let go of him, and I remembered him less and less.

I had dinner with him tonight. Facebook really is a great invention. As I sat and looked into his grownup responsible eyes, much of that fondness and desire to make his life better came back to me. And my inability to help began to frustrate me. I can't help. It is not in my power to help. He is doing fine without me. The strength I saw in him at 16 has carried him through the shit that came down, both the stuff I worried about and stuff I had no idea would happen to him. And he stood up to it. He has made a place for himself in the world.

What I wanted to say to him, and was too shy to say was, "Brother, I loved you as a child and prayed and hoped for you. Now I can start right in and love you as a man and pray for you and hope for you as we are. I am glad I knew you, and I'm glad to know you again."

Once more, my own thoughts and feelings give me some insight into theology. And maybe into my Dad's brain and heart, too.  If one can see Christ's face in the passers by, do you see God's in the mirror, if you really look hard? And do you see you father in that same mirror? Is that the wheel of history? Kalachakra?
I felt really powerful, warm and solid as I drove away. He is a good man. I knew him when he was a boy.