Friday, March 6, 2015

A Remembrance of My Son - David Kieschnick, Sept. 14, 1952-Feb. 14, 2015

David Kieschnick, Sept. 14, 1952 to Feb. 14, 2015
A Remembrance of My Son

The writer of Ecclesiastes had it right: “For everything there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven.”

A time to be born. It was a great time for David, our first, to be born. His was a much longed for arrival. While he was being delivered around 3:00 a.m. I was sound asleep in the waiting room. People chided me for my seeming lack of concern. But I reply that his Mother Jane and even David never were dependent on me. From his birth Dave was strong, self-reliant, capable, showing up on time. “Dad, I can handle it.”

A time to die. It’s hard to admit that 62 years of age is a time to die. For David it was. In a long personal conversation with me right after his oncologist told him, “Six months” Dave said, “Dad, I’m ready. I trust my God. I have no spouse or children dependent on me. I’ve accomplished my significant goals. I’ve made a difference. I’ve had a good life. “It’s a time to die.”

As that horrific cancer ate up first his jaw, then his cheeks and the descended into his throat and ascended into his brain sending excruciating pain along every cell along the way, the time came for hospice at home, massive pain killing drugs, always unbelievable support from his sibs and then final prayers and tearful goodbyes. It was a time to die.

A time to mourn and a time to dance. Of course, we mourn (with hope). Already I have moments of “Oh, I must talk to David about this.” Or “I’ve got to call Dave to see if he has time for us to have a beer together”. So I mourn.

And I recall the time to dance. David knew how to dance and have fun. His parties (especially hat parties – he kept 39 of those hats right inside his door), his love of food, his travels to the rivers of Europe with his sister, his singing, attending the theater for music and drama, his pottery and those who joined him there. Yes, David knew there was a time to dance.

A time to keep silent and a time to speak. Sometimes it was tough for David to keep silent, when honest disclosure would have brought more pain to him that he could bear.

But he also knew there was a time to speak. So he spoke for those outside the “norm”, the poor, the disenfranchised, the refugee, the alienated.

A time for war – and a time for peace. Yes, David fought his wars, for the cause of persons of all sexual orientation, for those who had trouble finding God in the “organized church”, against incompetence at work. And he fought his cancer with vegan and non-lactose diets, with chemo and radiation, with acupuncture and hyperbaric, with enhanced food supplements, with cancer support groups and writing seminars – and above all a desire to live and to make a difference.

And in the end, a time for peace. A time to rest from his wars, his pain, his weakened body and a time for peace with himself, with his family, with his God, with eternity.


“For everything there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven”.

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