Fly High, Robin

Grief comes upon me in unexpected moments, sobs as if from nowhere crumpling my countenance and filling my eyes with tears,  triggered maybe by a song, a memory, or words that remind me of the recent loss of a loved one. Robin, the only son of my oldest brother, a dear nephew I hadn't seen in years, passed away unexpectedly this week after losing the battle with the illness that came upon him several  months ago.  It has hit our family hard, from the close circle of relatives living near him to those like me who are scattered and far away.

Time can't erase the bond of the early years when we siblings were having our families, our children cousins growing up as friends and pals.  I remember my nephew as a baby, a toddler and a little boy, growing into adolescence, then suddenly grown, married with a family. and, now, hard to realize in the timelessness of absence, a grandfather.  It is these early memories that flood my eyes, thinking of him in his wide-eyed discovery of the world, his cheerfulness and good nature.

Last night we saw for the second time the movie, Heaven is for Real.  The reality of heaven dawns anew on me when I think of Robin being there.  Sadness is tempered with joy, for this is the realization of the goal of a life well lived.  After the movie,  we watched a television  interview of the  family of the boy upon whose experience the book is based.  Also interviewed was the man who wrote the script for the film, who confessed to being a skeptic when he first read the book.   But after meeting and sensing the genuineness of the boy's father, plus having a life-threatening condition that made him examine and deepen his own faith, he decided to write the screen play.

The famous writer said he had wanted to be a minister, but he never felt the call.  Once he discussed this with his pastor, saying, "I know that is the highest calling anyone can have," to which his pastor said, "No, the highest calling for anyone  is what He has called you to do."  He said he knew he was to be a writer, and now through this film he has reached millions for the Lord world wide.

A comment on Facebook from my younger brother in the expressions of sympathy from friends and family said, "Robin was the Music Man.  And now, for me,  the music has died."   He was referring to our nephew's talent and passion for the guitar and love of music.  Robin had formed a worship band and performed in different churches in recent years.  I had to respond that the music still goes on in heaven.  The little boy of Heaven is for Real described the beautiful music sung by angels in heaven. Music was Robin's calling.  How can I be sad when he is no doubt doing what he loved and met by loved ones and the One he loved most of all?