The Shock of the News

Dearest Rachel –

I have to admit, the first thing that crossed my mind when I heard the news was “Who’s going to tell Anastasia?” His Ukrainian girlfriend, who he met online through TikTok, had been a source of friction between the two of us, but she was the first thing I thought of when I got the email from his stepdad.

As I said in my last letter, you might well have been aware of his arrival when it happened, putting you somewhere between fifteen and forty hours ahead of me in terms of finding out. Then again, considering how many people flow into heaven at all hours of the day or night (not that either of those are concepts you deal with anymore up there), perhaps his arrival might have gone unnoticed until he sought you out. I really don’t know how these little things work.

I was heading out to get dinner for the boys (and, ultimately, myself, despite having leftovers I could have – and probably should have – had) when my phone went off, indicating I’d gotten an email I need to attend to. Normally, it’s just a request regarding some additional accounting work for church, or the camp, which I can attend to the next day at the office. But you know me, I have to look at it right away, and clear that red dot from my screen. So, I retrieved the phone from my pocket, and opened up the email.

What I read stopped me cold. Kevin had been in a car accident early yesterday morning; the car in front of him spun out, causing him to hit that car and fly into the guardrail.

He’s where you are, now.

I really thought that his health would be what took him; he’d suffered a mild heart attack when he was up here a few years ago (you’ll remember, as it was several years before the accident), and while he’s done his level best to lose weight, it’s hard to exercise when even the walking required to grocery shop leaves you winded. But he’d gotten his heart and blood pressure under control, and he had a goal of losing enough weight so as to visit Disney World in time for its fiftieth anniversary coming up later this year (or early next year – evidently, this particular anniversary extends for some eighteen months). He was even watching livestreams of people going through the park when he visited in September, to motivate himself.

But it seemed as if the Lord had other plans.

And don’t get me wrong; I’m not blaming God for this. That’s the sort of thing that Kevin and I would ‘discuss’ about, when we got together. You remember how we would argue like rabbis at synagogue (to hear Yael explain it) while you spent the time in the kitchen, safely out of the fray (save for occasional interjections where you felt like you had grounds to contribute to the discussion). It wasn’t so much of a knock-down, drag-out fight as it was a verbal sparring session between reasonably matched partners, but thanks to his studies of things like the Bibliotheca Sacra, he was one of the few people against whom I actually felt overmatched. I would frequently be the one crying ‘uncle,’ asking for the discussion to be set aside, lest it spoil our meal together. No sparring over dinner, after all – otherwise, you can’t enjoy your food.

Speaking of which, I think I may have spoiled Daniel’s meal. He noted my reaction, and insisted I tell him what I’d found out. When I told him, he was like me; not knowing how to react. Then he smiled wanly and said, “Well, now he can discuss everything with all those great minds directly.”

Yes, I suppose that’s true. If you happen to see him in a heated debate with Augustine about something or other, I leave it to you to get his attention before it gets too heated.

***

The eerie part of all this, too, is that this suddenly seems to be part of that pattern that doesn’t exist. There’s virtually no connection between your parents, yourself and him… except your connections to me. And yet… it happened. I’ve no idea what to make of it. Actually, I know I shouldn’t make anything of it, but we humans are wired to see patterns, even where they aren’t. Wish he and I could argue about whether this was a thing…

Anyway, I’ve got to get on with my day. Keep an eye on me, honey – and the other on Kevin, as he gets used to being there. We’re both going to need it, in our own ways.