The Gifts

 Since Corban left, holidays have been a challenge. Christmas has been a struggle. After two years we still haven't figured it out.  We decided not to exchange gifts this year satisfied that both of us could simply log on and buy whatever we want whenever we want anyway.  While I've never agreed with anyone who believes "Christmas is for children", I have definitely learned to appreciate the joy kids bring to all things Christmas no matter their age.  As excited as Corban might have been, it was more typical to get a grin of approval, a nod, and a thank you. He did get great joy from giving though.  I remember not long before he left us he came home with an oversized box of brand new pots and pans. No reason, just a random gift for his mom. "I just felt like you needed those."  That was Corban. Random gifts. A pleaser at heart.  Anyway, while we decided not to "do gifts" for Christmas, God had other plans. 

GIFT #1: Friday night I made a last minute decision to take a 45-minute roadtrip east, down the mountain to a church pastored by a college friend. I had waffled all day about going because it was Friday, I was tired, it was raining, and moreover, I knew there would be sons and dads there because it was a special men's event. Nevertheless my friend had been gracious to offer to promote our son Corban's foundation, and the truth is I was somehow being drawn there.  Running out of time, I decided to wear the same clothes I'd been lounging around in. I grabbed my keys but I couldn't find my Bible. "Where's my Bible? I can't go to a men's church event without my Bible." Like most other guys I texted my wife. I searched my car. I looked at my phone again. Time was ticking. I ran to Corban's room and grabbed his two-tone brown, soft leather Bible from his bedside nightstand and hopped in the car. 

I pulled into the church just in time.  High schoolers were meeting people at their cars with umbrellas. Nice touch.  A large dry erase board had been placed outside inviting attendees to leave prayer requests for the new year, and we were encouraged to take a photo at the night's end so we could pray for all the needs throughout the next year. I went inside and sat in a pew. I scanned the room and as expected, didn't know anyone.

I began flipping through Corban's Bible not searching for anything in particular just riffling through and feeling each page and wondering what words might have been the last he read.

 I began to notice subtle damage to the leather and wrinkled pages. I noticed that his Bible, originally fashioned to be more thin-lined and trim, was now puffier and swollen. The realization that many of these imperfections resulted from having been part of the tragic accident struck me deeply. 

I noticed my hands were dry with a powdery film. I looked down onto my black thermal shirt to find the same. I grabbed the Bible, held it sideways,  flipped the pages and shook it.  Some tiny glass fragments fell to the floor, along with white powdery specks I initially thought might be fiberglass but later realized was Corban's flavored workout premix that had covered everything in his car after the accident.  Hands trembling, I quickly started wiping the Bible and shaking my shirt free of tiny bits of glass and workout pre-mix, warily casting my eyes around the room to see if anyone was watching. 

 I nervously opened the Bible and randomly turned to Matthew 6 where Jesus reassures us not to worry and reminds us of God's care for the birds of the air.  I was amazed to see there that Corban had underlined the words, "Are you not much more valuable than they?" and just further down in another spot "Seek first His kingdom and His righteousness."   These underlined words took my breath---not just because they are profound, but because of my own recent personal struggles with self-doubt and depression, and anxiety.  I can't express enough the appreciation I have for the gift of those red-letter words, along with the message my son underlined in black, especially during this season.  It set my focus for the rest of the evening and I'm thankful I made the drive, and that my own bible was temporarily missing. 

Gift #2: This year we were blessed with an opportunity to fly out to the Pacific Northwest for a bit.  My wife is always amused at how much I pack. She's way more practical than I am, and for the trip she went to Corban's closet and grabbed one his backpacks--the nice one with the built-in charger adapter etc. As she unloaded his things, she felt deep into it and found a small hidden pocket tucked away. She pulled out the contents and it was gift cards.  Corban had squirreled away some gift cards that he'd received his Freshman year of college. There were all sorts of them-- restaurants, movies, and clothes.  She sat on this news for a bit and shared with me after Christmas. 

We imagined for a bit what he might have been thinking. Maybe he didn't want to

 waste time with cards, maybe he was saving them for a rainy day, maybe he just preferred cold hard cash, but I think he probably tucked them away and forgot about them.  Corban has been gone for two years now, and so I thought it best to call and check balances before trying to use them. As it turns out after automated phone calls and checking websites, all the cards were still valid. I considered how cool it would be to keep them and use them on holidays, birthdays, or future Christmases but I know that sometimes cards expire so I'm not sure what's next for them. I know he'd want us to use them though.  We decided this year to use one of the cards and go online and buy a gift sort of from Corban. I bought a sweatshirt. He knew I loved hoodies. I'm looking forward to wearing it, and I think he'd be pleased. So yeah, we decided not to do gifts this year, but once again, God had other plans. 

Gift #3: Time flies and seasons change and the coming and going of each holiday brings a level of anxiety and relief. It's a cycle,

 and a weird duality, balancing contradictory emotions as time passes.  Two years feels like an eternity in some ways, and then it seems like yesterday.  Nevertheless people come and go and move on and live life as they should but it's easy sometimes to feel forgotten or even static. It doesn't have to make sense you just roll with it. You don't want to talk about it too much because people already don't understand---you don't want to talk about it too little for fear you're somehow dishonoring the memories. But there are people who do understand. People who have become so special to us because we are bonded through a series of tragic unfortunate events and new realities.  

A few days after Christmas, we received a phone call from a special friend. Something had been left in our mailbox. I walked up our drive and opened the little black mailbox lid that never seems to want to stick. Nothing. As it turns out, it was in the neighbor's mailbox which makes sense because it's actually closer to our driveway. I opened the door and there's a small wrapped giftbox, a card and a note

 reminding us our family is not forgotten and how she thinks of Corban. We opened the box together and it couldn't be more fitting--a dumbbell ornament.  A perfect gift in memory of a young man who lifted and who also left us too early.  I'll be honest sometimes it feels like he's slipping further from us when in reality he's only a breath away. No we hadn't planned on gifts this year, but God had other plans.

Thanks so much for reading my ramblings and for walking this journey with me. Thanks for the gift of your time. 

--CorbansDad 

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If you'd like to give of your gifts of time or service to our son's foundation, Serve Strong: Corban Scott Goad Memorial Foundation, you can learn more at Servestrong.us (note it's dot .us and not dot .com). 

CorbansDad lives in Tennessee with his wife and family-pets who believe they're human.