Good morning…
I wake early on this difficult day, preparing my heart for this morning’s funeral. In the sacred stillness of these wee hours, I savor the obituary of Dobbs Davie. Crossing over to heaven on Mother’s Day, Dobbs was just twenty years old.
I look at his handsome picture and can see remnants of the little boy who played youth football with our youngest son, Jeremiah. Our families made great memories together in the stands of Northside Youth Organization, and later we enjoyed watching the guys as wrestling teammates at The Lovett School. His mother, Beth, was in our Sr. Moms Bible study, which I hosted weekly in our home, and his maternal grandmother, Anne Barron, spent many hours in our living room book studies over the years. Always a source of divine wisdom, Anne’s presence mattered deeply.
This semester Anne was a regular in our Lenten Lunch and Learn series at Northside Church. We were studying Winter of the Heart: Finding Your Way Through the Mystery of Grief by Paula D’Arcy. As we began the class on Ash Wednesday in the first week of March, neither one of us knew that we would both be spending extended time in the ICU with our loved ones. Me, with my mom in Ohio. Anne, with her grandson Dobbs.
“Sue – I’m too late for today,” Anne texted on Wednesday, March 16th. “Have been relaying text messages to our growing prayer team for Dobbs. He’s been in the ICU at Piedmont since a week ago Saturday. He’s been on every machine they have to keep him going, in an induced coma. Day by day small improvements. In God’s hands, in God’s time. Today he opened his eyes a bit and Beth was right there. Is sedated again for his procedure in a couple of hours.”
Thus began the regular text string Anne and I have shared most days for the past two months. My mom also opened her eyes in the ICU and gradually returned to us. Dobbs did the same, but he faced set back after set back, surgery after surgery, urgent prayer request after urgent prayer request. It was Dobb’s dad, James, who reached out to my husband Steve by text on Mother’s Day morning to let us know that Dobbs was in cardiac arrest. He passed away soon after to the great sorrow of his family and many friends.
“He had a quiet strength, a kind heart, and was always quick to help anyone in need,” says his obituary. With grieving friends and family, today we will celebrate the cherished life of Dobbs Davie. Experiencing this cold dark winter of the heart, may we all find our own way through the mystery of grief.
Rejoice with those who rejoice [sharing others’ joy], and weep with those who weep [sharing others’ grief] (Romans 12:15, AMP).
…Sue…
