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Jason Drew Father's Day Widow Repair

Psalm 68

Sing to God, sing in praise of His name,

extol Him who rides on the clouds;

rejoice before Him—His name is the Lord.

A Father to the Fatherless, a Defender of widows,

is God in His holy dwelling.

God makes a home for the lonely,

He leads out the prisoners with singing;

but the rebellious live in a sun-scorched land.

 

I’m glad that Father’s Day is in the summer. Caleb always makes something for me at school for Mother’s Day. I could not face it in years past, if he had to watch his classmates make cards for their dads…and him being without his own father.

Once, a bully at school jeered at my son, “You don’t have a dad!” I felt drained and helpless when Caleb told me. As a mother, you want to put a bubble around your children for protection. In this case, I wanted to protect his emotions.

Caleb’s school had an event for dads to visit the classroom, and I was blessed to have my fiance step into the role.

Sometimes I feel like I’m the only single mother, but it’s important to open your heart and embrace the people who want to help.

Many grandpas were there. The important thing is that someone who loves your child is there.

If it was just me and Caleb, I would have been there for my son. So many moms are both mom and dad. Many parents fill both roles.

My son was only three months old when his dad died, so Caleb does not remember Jason. I do my best to keep his memory alive, to help Caleb know his dad. I was so happy to hear from Caleb’s teacher that he talks about his dad, so I will always share my memories. I will always keep the pictures of Jason up around the house.

This is a card written by a dear friend after Jason died. I read it when I don’t feel strong. I read it when I feel lonely. I read it on Father’s Day:

 

Dearest Bonnie,

May the L-ord continue to wrap His arms of loving kindness around you and sing softly to you, “Quiet, my love” (Zephaniah 3:17).

Jason lives in peace, purity of light and truth, waiting for all of us to join him. For soon and very soon we will all meet the King of Kings, our L-ord.

Jason left behind a legacy—you and Caleb, whose namesake in the Bible (Numbers 13 and Joshua 14:6-15) was one of two men in an entire nation to enter the Promised Land and take a mountain at 84 years old.

You have a job ahead of you—to raise Caleb and help him grow into the young man that Jason would be so proud of. One who would follow in his father’s heritage of a deeply rooted faith.

It is all of us who must bury our doubts and questionings. Nothing or no one could have prevented this from happening—for it was planned, though in despondency.

My prayer for you, Bonnie, is that you will literally feel the presence of the L-ord as he sings softly over you, “Quiet, my love.” I love you.

 

Tomorrow, I will take my fiance and our kids out for dinner. I am excited to celebrate him, such a wonderful father. I mailed a card to my dad yesterday, and it’s going to be late, but I’ll call to wish him Happy Father’s Day.

God kept His promise in Psalm 68. He is a Father to the Fatherless. He is the defender of widows.

Promise of Psalm 68 Father to the Fatherless Widow Repair

God always put someone in our life to  step up for Caleb, whether he was someone I dated in the past, my dad, or my fiance.

We have never lacked for anything we needed, financially, physically or emotionally.

I'll Bring My Chivalrous Plus One Widow Repair

It was November 2004. Jason and I were flying out of the Savannah/Hilton Head Airport to Washington, D.C. for my uncle’s wedding. It was Jason’s first time on a plane, so he kept the mini bottles coming.

The trip was a whirlwind of activity until we sat down for the rehearsal dinner. Being from a small Southern town, my clothing consisted mainly of jeans, t-shirts and flip flops. Jason always dressed better than me, and for him it seemed completely effortless.

I was wearing the best dress outfit I had, but I was still feeling out of place among big city finery. My parents were at the next table, and I wondered if they would notice if I sneaked some wine.

Jason suddenly grabbed the edge of my chair and pulled me closer. He put his arm around my shoulders and whispered in my ear, “You are the most beautiful woman in this room.”

My heart fluttered. How did he know that I needed to hear that? At that moment?

We were chatting with another young couple at our table about business and careers. I had no plans. I had no idea what I would do when I finished college, but Jason moved the conversation like a pro.

He said proudly, “Bonnie will be a famous author one day.” Our companions were instantly intrigued, and soon the questions were flowing. “Who is your favorite author?” was answered with “Hemingway” and a discussion of his book, A Moveable Feast.

 

After most of the guests left the party, Jason was showing signs of taking advantage of the open bar too many times. He announced that he was ready to go, but “We are not walking back to the hotel!” he said loudly (he and my parents had gotten lost on the way over). I blushed and tried to shush him.

We went outside for a taxi, and he immediately put his coat around my shoulders because I was, as usual, not prepared for the cold.

After getting the hotel room key, he gamely resolved to try each door in the hallway until he found the right one. My dad guided him to the right room, and I worried for the rest of the night.

What would my parents think? Would Jason be anxious about drinking too much at my uncle’s rehearsal dinner? Would he be mad that I brought him here?

Not so. My parents were understanding, and my plus one brought his signature class and style to the wedding the next day.

I found him in the crowd when I walked down the aisle as a bridesmaid. My nervousness vanished, and I returned his smile.

We laughed together about his antics when we got home. My haphazard life is like a movie, I thought. It’s like a comedy.

 

After Jason died, I made a note in my private journal: “Drunk at my uncle’s wedding.” The note was written as a personal reminder of the event, and I planned to write more about it later.

Now that I am finally reflecting on the story, I can see the whole picture. That night was more than a romantic comedy:

Throughout the evening, we were working as a team. Jason kept the conversation flowing and built me up when he sensed that I was feeling shy.

All that time, he was feeling the same way.

When he drank too much, I steered him away from the crowd. And when he saw me shivering on that windy night, in a city where I was completely out of my element, he gave up his coat—he was like the chivalrous hero of an old black and white movie.