I know it sounds strange. But salsa is why I am ready to write about Jared. (Check out the first post of Jared’s Story if you haven’t already.)
Salsa and Jerry.
Jerry
Jerry is a great guy. That isn’t his real name, but it will do for here. He is a retired union carpenter and was a pretty good one, too. A husband, a dad, and a good Christian man I have come to love and respect.
Jerry is one of the best story tellers I know. He loves “spinning a great yarn” and along the way he has picked up some absolute doozies. (Ask him about his rafting story if you get a chance.) He also likes to fish but will tell you he isn’t much of an angler.
Jerry and his wife also like to garden. This year yielded a bumper crop of tomatoes. Not tiny tomatoes, but large luscious sink-your-teeth-into-em tomatoes. Slice them beauties and season with a dash of salt and pepper. Delicious!
Being the generous man that he is and knowing that the two of them could never eat all the produce they grew, he gave us a great big bag of freshly picked garden awesomeness. As a thank you, Vikki promised to make him batch of her salsa. Yes, THAT salsa. 🙂
The Salsa
Stay with me. We are getting to the point. Trust me.
So few Saturdays ago, Vikki and I were able to get away from the house for a few hours without any children clinging to our legs, asking for a snack. We took advantage of the free time and made a few stops.
Drop a batch of cookies off to one of the church ladies, return a cake carrier and a few cookies to another, and finally deliver the salsa to Jerry and his wife. I guess it was a Saturday of food deliveries for us.
We delivered the salsa intending to only stay for two minutes. I even left the minivan running. We will be right back, I thought. This shouldn’t take long.
Well, I was wrong.
Two hours flew by
Two minutes quickly turned into two hours. And we had a great time chatting about kids, food, work, fish…pretty much whatever.
Somewhere about the middle of all that conversation, I noticed Jerry began to fidget a bit. He started to talk and then stumbled around some. Starting to speak again, then tripping over his words. Obviously hesitant and pensive about what he wanted to say. Not a normal occurrence for a veteran polished storyteller like Jerry. I was stumped. This was so unlike Jerry.
He was finally able to spit out that he wanted to share a struggle he had a few years ago. Five years to be exact. Jerry kept stumbling around his words and I really had no clue what he was talking about.
Then he mentioned our struggles (meaning Vikki and I) and it hit me right in the chest.
He was talking about Jared.
No wonder he was stumbling around searching for the right words. He thought he might be overstepping his bounds and he didn’t want to bring up a subject so tender. As I mentioned in the last post, I have never been able to write about Jared. But, talking about Jared, has been much easier.
Jared
So we talked about Jared.
Jerry told me he was sure Jared would be born and live a healthy life. He was sure he would be healed and brought to full term. But he wasn’t. And Jerry’s faith was shaken. He was broken. He was wounded. How could God allow a precious life to end before Jared could even breathe his first breath? Why would He not heal Jared? Why?
Pretty much the same questions we had struggled with and honestly, still do today. Some questions never get answered. Sometimes we are left with a lifetime of wondering. I have been there. I know.
What I didn’t know is Jerry had struggled so much during that time and afterward.
I was touched. To see his tears and hear the tremble in his voice. He had suffered also. I realized right then, the pain was not mine alone. I knew I had to share Jared.
Share Jared
I had to share his precious little life that never existed outside the warm haven of his mother’s womb. It was time to share the bravery, strength and incredible love of his mother who chose “to give him as much life” as she possibly could. Her exact words. Others may have taken what seemed to be the easy way. Never an option for my wonderful wife. No, she kept him close and endured two months of wondering if he was going to make it. Cherished them even.
You see we knew Jared would probably not be born. The doctors were very honest and open about that. He had severe birth defects and only by a miracle would he go full term and live what many would call “a normal life”.
We didn’t care. He was the boy we had sooo longed for. The one we had waited years for. He would be our boy. Loved and cared for by a huge family that desperately wanted him to be well. If he never kicked a ball because of an undeveloped leg and foot, it didn’t matter. If he was never able to grasp a baseball bat because of a poorly formed hand, so what?
There were lots of arms to carry him. Lots of hands to help take care of him. A ton of love from a huge family that was ready to do whatever it took to love and look after our little baby boy.
But God has other plans. Jared Joshua Rodriguez was still born on August 16, 2013. Almost exactly two months after we were told he might not make it.
Back to the Beginning
I really need to start at the beginning. I feel like I am getting way ahead of myself. You have only heard a sliver of the whole story.
To be honest, this is turning out to be a lot harder than I thought.
You know, we are all built differently and we all deal differently with grief. There is no wrong way to grieve…as long as you allow yourself to grieve. Denial, becoming a recluse, ignoring reality, and turning to vices are certainly not effective ways to grieve. We all have to find what works for us. Self destruction is not the way. Please, don’t allow your pain to destroy you and those around you.
There is hope. There is tomorrow. Hold on. You will make it.
That’s all I can get through for now. Next time, some necessary back story…
Thanks for coming on this journey with me. I don’t really want to travel the path alone.
–JR
–go directly to Part Three of Jared’s story–