March 28, 2005
My Easter Story
Okay, I’m gonna do that thing again where I get all sappy on you for one post. I apologize in advance.
I used to teach Sunday School. (I know, surreal, huh?) I did third grade for a year and then decided I relate better to kids who don’t eat glitter glue on a dare. So I “taught” the high school. It wasn’t so much teaching as it was sitting around talking about stuff, but I think, for the age group, it’s a much better approach.
And I got to know some really great kids as a result. I know you’re not supposed to have favorites, but c’mon, everybody does, and Aaron and Janet (siblings) were totally mine. I even had them and their friends over to my home, which says a lot because I’m totally anal about my home and everything that goes on inside it.
At this point in history, I was also singing in the church choir. (It just gets weirder and weirder, I know.) Aaron, Janet and their mom always sat in the front pew by the choir. Janet always looked adorable and managed to hide her boredom. Aaron, however, was another story.
His hair was so long it hung in his face. He’s 6’4” or something and, at that age, totally didn’t know how to dress, so his clothes never fit him. Like many teenaged boys, he just looked… goofy. And over the course of the service, it was funny to watch him slump over further and further, until he was practically on the floor, crippled under the weight of his own disinterest.
But in other ways, Aaron’s not at all typical. He’s an artist. And I don’t mean he can draw a kickass Black Sabbath logo on his math folder. I mean he’s fucking gifted. Drawing, painting, sculpting –- dude can do it all, and with a sensitivity to his subjects that is unbelievable for one his age. He blows my mind, and I’m not easily impressed.
I’m gonna assume it was financial need that made him join the Army to be able to go to college because he’s so not cut out to be a soldier. Not that he lacks the intelligence or they loyalty or the ability. I just don’t equate the Army with art, ya know?
Anyhoo, you can see where this is going. He was sent to Iraq. For twenty months. I was devastated. It hit me way harder than I expected. I wrote him twice a week and cried at least that often. I don’t know why. It’s not like we were dating, or related. I’d only seen him once or twice a year since he got outta high school. Perhaps it was because my parents lost a son years ago, and I just didn’t want Aaron’s family to have to go thru what my family did? I don’t know.
Church was especially hard. I’d see Janet there with her mom, but no Aaron. And I’d sit in the choir loft and obsess about how much they must miss him, and how the next time we were in church, it could be for his funeral. I drove myself nuts. I’d sit there and cry in church, and I’m sure people thought (or hoped) I was moved by the Holy Spirit or something.
Aaron got home in August last year. And although I got a letter from him, I hadn’t seen him since he was home on leave in January 2004. Dude’s got shit to do after a twenty month absence. I understand.
And so it’s Easter. And what did I get for Easter? I got to see Aaron’s whole family sitting together in church, two rows in front of me. And I got a hug.
PURE AWESOME.