i just learned that, two nights ago, my cousin died of HIV.
id like to hear your thoughts on how this relates to the idea of restoration. please do not take the easy route and say "he is now completely restored in heaven."
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It sounds weird to say it online, but my condolences to you and your family.
It's not a pat answer, nor is it the exact same experience, but I'm going to share another restoration story which relates to death.
4 years ago, my father died of an aneurysm next to his heart. He was in the best shape he'd been in since he was in the military. He was young. There was no apparent reason for him to die except that an artery had weakened next to his heart (not able to be diagnosed or fixed unless they were poking around his heart for another reason and noticed it.)
There's 0 comfort in the statement "he's in heaven now." I'm actually not even sure I believe that's what happens to those heaven bound directly after death. And...there's no restoration power in that sentence.
Where do I see restoration in my father's death? I'm not sure I see it in my personal life. Family times are still very powerfully empty for me. I felt more tied to my dad, and feel very outnumbered now with my brother and mom (they connect with each other very tightly.)
However...at the time of my dad's death, my brother was fast becoming one of those loser types who aren't becoming much of anything. He was just starting his 4th job in one year, wasn't communicating regularly even with Mom much less me. He had a new girlfriend, her name was Jackie. In short, I've watched him become a man in the past 4 years. He is responsible, keeps in touch, and has provided a ton of support for Mom both emotionally and physically (work around the house and etc). He doesn't carry any past guilt around with Dad because they were able to reconcile the Xmas before Dad went. He's learning how to be a Dad himself...and it's still painful for him...but I see him doing it. He owns up for things that are his responsibility.
I see similar restoration in Mom's life. She was one of those wives who depended on everything from Dad. He did all the finances, fix ups, and all the voting decisions for the two of them. She has become her own person in the last four years. She has started engaging in her faith in a way that is much more independent. She wouldn't have questioned the things taught at her church when Dad was alive. Now she does. She also finally had the guts to admit to us that she hates cooking. Now if I can just get her to learn her own technical support things will be great and she'll be fully independent. (This is a joke, I know I'll always get a call about how to hook up the DVD player, and about the mini messages on her phone...you can laugh at that if you want, I don't mind.)
It's a cheeseball analogy, but it's like how the earth regenerates itself after a fire. Reclaiming first with grass, then flowers, small bushes, eventually trees. One step at a time, we pick the pieces up, put them back together, and start down the road.
I know every grief situation is different, Eric, so I don't expect sharing this story makes it better or anything like that. It's just my experience with grief.
These are my thoughts/unanswered questions/ponderings
I hope that death is the experience of being utterly broken and simultaneously becoming completely free.
I don't really have anything to offer other than abstractions - but death itself is the most significant problem, event, experience, that we will ever, ever face. I don't think answers ever help me, but just asking the question can be a relief. Death raises all the real questions.
It provides contrast to our existence.
I think there's a reason for it - and I don't mean that in a case by case way - but I mean that death is so fundamental and raw, it seems as basic as gravity, it seems like the universe hinges on it.
Death is unavoidably central to all of our stories.
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