The Yin and the Yang of It All

This has been an interesting week. Tuesday, February 10 was the first year anniversary of my dad's death. I won't bore you trying to describe how much I miss him; suffice it to say that I do, as do friends and family. But, as if conspiring to bring me crashing back into the present, my beloved son Corran yanked out his third loose tooth this week. It is funny, but before I became a father, I actually envisioned having something to do with my child losing his teeth when the time came. But, Corran (much like his dad, I must admit), when he feels that little sucker getting loose, he just works it and works it until it is out. And as I sit and consider all of the emotions of this past week, I am struck by the constant interaction, entanglement - whatever you choose to call it - of the past and the present. I mourn the loss of my dad. I miss him, and I especially wish he were around to continue to give me advice on those rare occasions when I was willing to ask him for it. At the same time, my little boy (who is almost looking me in the eye at the ripe old age of 6) continues to grow and learn and discover and seek and everything else that boys do. And he looks to me the same way that I looked at my dad, as if I actually know what is going on in this world, as if I have some semblance of control of the events that happen in our lives. And I just look at him with probably the same fear and hope, the same trepidation and faith, with which my dad looked at me. In my heart, I tell him. I will do my best, little man. But, God is in charge. I am not big enough for the job (both literally and figuratively). It just blows my mind how heaven and earth, how eternity and the moment, collide every day. When I think of my dad and my son, I am reminded of a saying that a college professor used to say to us. "It's your world; I'm just passing through." And that's the yin and the yang of it all.