The Best is Yet to Come

I’ve always been thankful for the wisdom my husband sheds on situations in our lives. But this time, I didn’t ask or listen. I guess my desire to bring joy to my children skewed my perception of things.

Gary and Megan had gone on a Girl Scout canoe trip for a few days and the boys and I decided to visit the local animal shelter. Just for the record, we had planned to get a puppy, but the timing of this acquisition had not yet been decided.

The boys, ages 8 and 12, and I walked the rows of the shelter passing dogs of all breeds and sizes when suddenly, we saw him. He was one of a litter of pups, only a few weeks old, and was adorable. His mother was clearly a coonhound, and the employee told us they thought the father had greyhound in him. The boys were smitten. Holding him in his arms, Nathan enjoyed the doggie kisses, laughing with joy. You can see it in his face, can’t you? I knew this was the one. I told the lady at the shelter that I’d call first thing in the morning, but I was sure that we wanted him. After getting home, I phoned my husband to tell him the good news.

Gently, he voiced some concerns. “I hate to say this but I’m not really sure that a coonhound is what we want. They howl and try to run away and are really more of a hunting dog.”

 But he was so cute! I just knew it would work out okay and the boys would be crushed if we didn’t get him. Gary didn’t say not to get him but just that he thought we could do better. So, I plunged forward. Never mind the fact that when you looked really closely at the dog’s eyes, they looked a little crossed. Surely that wasn’t indicative of anything wrong and it would likely change as he got older.

 I should’ve been suspicious when the shelter lady was overly enthusiastic to give him to us, even throwing in a crate for free. In fact, when I had been hesitant about the timing since I knew we were heading out of town for ten days, she immediately offered to kennel him for free. When we returned from vacation, it seemed that Jake’s legs had grown several inches. Perhaps that should’ve been a sign too, but we settled back into life, the kids loving this newest member of the family.

The honeymoon period didn’t last very long. In fact, starting with the very first night, he cried and made baby howling noises all night long. But of course, I understood. He was probably scared and missed his mom. Wanting to be a responsible new puppy owner, I determined not to let him out of his kennel and ruin the training. Surely he’d get used to it. So, I did what any respectable new puppy mom would do— lay down by his kennel and pet him through the screen. Actually, as badly as I hate to admit it, the truth is that I held his paw for as long as it took for him to nod off. I was desperate for sleep and would’ve done anything at that point. After a few nights of coaxing him to sleep, I gave up and let him sleep with the kids.

As our children grew into adults, family get-togethers included reminiscing about childhood, and many Jake stories were told. I can still hear Nathan laughing at all of the crazy antics Jake pulled, like his constant daring escapes from our fenced-in yard, his love of sneaking up on people from behind and tackling them, his obsession with butter and dead Asian lady beetles, and his fear of fire hydrants and the color black. I could fill a page with “strange but true” things about Jake. As abnormal as Jake was, it was worth the frustration he caused just to have the funny memories we could all enjoy.

Nathan’s laugh made me smile. I haven’t yet gone through the boxes of old Hi-8 tapes from our video camera to find that laugh, but eventually, I will. I’m sure it’s there in many places, especially when he was spending time with his cousins and siblings. I’ll always remember Nathan’s adult years and hearing that infectious laughter from the living room as he watched funny episodes of “The Office” with Ryan and Megan. Although I now know that he was silently suffering with deep depression for many years, I also know that in the midst of it all, he cherished time with family and friends, enjoyed entrepreneurial ventures, computer programming, helping others, reading classic books, and spending time at the beach. I now know that he fought hard to defeat the illness that gradually robbed him of happy memories, joy, and that laugh.

 As time moves on, my longing to see him, hug him, and hear his voice doesn’t diminish, it actually strengthens. Is it that way with you? It’s wonderful to realize that this earthly life isn’t “it.” We are truly here for a brief stint, preparing for eternity and the “real” life ahead— the life when I’ll see Jesus, Nathan, Mom, and so many others.

Trust me, my friend. The best is yet to come.

1 Corinthians 2:9  “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined the things that God has prepared for those who love him.”