I can only imagine

Throughout my journey of coming to terms with the loss of My Joyful Boy, music has proven to be an almost essential tool for emotional expression. Since those first few days, witnessing MJB laying inexplicably peacefully amongst all the tubes and machines of intensive care, playlists have formed. They have helped fill the gaps when numbness and exhaustion rendered me unable to to show MJB the love and hope I needed him to know.

I realise, that even had he not been unconscious, his blissfully oblivious baby brain couldn’t have made sense of those lyrics which moved me at my most frozen. But it helped me to fill his silences and mine with sentiments I could trust in, even when they felt buried under the crushing weight of sadness.

After his death, on returning home, those same songs accompanied me into the unthinkable transition of a home life without my baby in it. Music featured everyday those first weeks - but only the songs considered worthy of MJB’s playlist: 20-something tracks of pregnant nostalgia, songs of loss and grief and worship music. Songs that spoke to my stony heart when nothing else felt as though it could reach in or out.

More recently I have found myself compiling a new playlist - still all songs relevant to my thoughts and feelings regarding MJB, but less to do with the loss of him, and more to do with the hope and joy he continues to be to me. Upbeat songs that feature loss and pain but present them alongside some redemptive certainty. A few worship songs were inevitably added, but then I noticed a strange thing happen:

Singing along to these worship songs I caught myself singing them to MJB, rather than God. Now I know that making an idol of my dead son is iffy territory both emotionally and theologically so, to make sense of this subconscious substitution, I decided it didn’t need to be considered idolatry if I could sing those words to the God-image in MJB. After all, my faith leads me to believe that heaven is a place where the God-image in each of us is wholly and perfectly realised; we are redeemed to lack none of His pure expression of love and, God being love, Himself.

That got me thinking - what would MJB be like if he’d had the opportunity to become the complete creation God designed him to be? What sort of man could he have become if all the beautiful qualities of God’s pure love had reached their full potential? It occurred to me that at various stages of his life, different qualities would have prominence. For example, the three beautiful months of his life I was blessed to witness displayed his almost holy innocence. Also his humility in realising his own needs and limitations and being so ready to call for help - without pride or inhibition. His trust and faithfulness in us as his parents too, to protect and provide for him, blind to our flaws and incapabilities.

Had he continued to live - even 6 weeks later as I write this - we’d be seeing new amazing traits develop as indeed they are in his brother JD. JD’s simple and smiling interactions with voices and faces he recognises give us glimpses of his growing capacity for friendships and relationships. At full-flourish hopefully those characteristics will form the basis of his ability to love and be loved.

Looking ahead to childhood, I imagine it’ll be playfulness and affection that reach their prime in JD’s life. Then later curiosity, willingness to learn, sociability, the development of passions and interests. Still further, perhaps then he’ll reach his physical prime - becoming strong and athletic. Pursuing challenges and gaining strength of character by choosing to do what is right over what is convenient. Maybe if marriage and parenthood become chapters in his life, selflessness and commitment will become prominent traits in his character - as they have done in his dad and I. Then later in life, probably wisdom, maybe generosity, perhaps even kindness and compassion will be in full bloom once, physically, his prime slips further into the past.

All these things I recognise as good, I believe were instilled in my sons, as well as all God’s creation, as reflective facets of God’s ultimate goodness and love. Because of this belief, my picture of MJB in heaven has changed. No longer do I see the troubling image of a small baby, vulnerable and dependent with very limited cognitive ability. Instead I picture all of these prime traits coming together and being realised, as they would have been has his earthly life not been cut so cruelly short.

I picture a tall, strong man in his physical prime - big enough to tuck my shoulders under his arms in a huge, warm embrace. I picture his same gorgeous round brown eyes but framed with the laughter lines of a lifetime of friendly smiles and fun-loving humour. I imagine big hands made tough by dedicated hard work and perhaps years of playing instruments and enjoying music as his dad does. I see thick dark curly hair, styled to suit his creative nature and proud cultural heritage. I think perhaps he’d wear a simple wedding ring, even though I know marriage is a null concept in heaven, maybe just there to represent his loving devotion…

As JD grows up and I watch him reach and fulfil new primes, my picture of MJB in heaven may continue to be shaped in new and wonderful ways. Even now, while so many of my hopes and dreams of him are based purely on my narrow imagination, I simply cannot wait to be united with my son in his complete and perfect form: created miraculously by God and generously blessed to us, even if only for such a heart-breakingly short time.