Replacing an Icon

Been busy lately. This past weekend was Sigma Theta Epsilon's National Conclave of Chapters. Leading up to the meeting, I was National Secretary, and coming out of the meeting, I'm now National Vice President.

It's odd. I was elected National Secretary three years ago (in 2004), and I had no timidity about my ability to do the job, even though it didn't exactly match my skillset. I was a wide-eyed kid, about to be fresh out of my undergraduate studies, but I knew what I needed to do, and I knew I could do it.

It probably helped a great deal that I had a checklist of tangible measurable things (like getting out newsletters, membership records, and the such) that I could measure my success against that would help me. It also helped my confidence that I walked into the office with its standards not exactly the highest, and simply catching up on the past two guys' lack of work would be a success.

Now ... I'm National Vice President. Charged with being the programming and spiritual leader of the fraternity. Something much more suited to my skillset. And yet, I'm much more tentative about having success. Some of that is the success in this office is less tangible and less in my full control. Are there programs available? Are people using the programs? Part of it also has to be that I'm replacing someone I consider an icon of the fraternity, and a mentor of mine, in the position.

I think I'm off to a good enough start. Lead devotion Sunday Morning, encouraging us as a fraternity and as men of God to not limit ourselves to trying to do what is good, but try to do what is better. Introduced a programming theme, "Made For Love", and using a key verse of Micah 6:8, encouraged our members to be made for love, and to love loving others.

And now to follow through.

The weekend was amazing, but difficult to get through at times. And not just for business stress. Also for emotional baggage. Shan lead worship on Sunday morning, and the beauty of my brothers singing in my voice moved me, and brought me memories of JZ. I almost doubled over, overcome with emotion, and had to leave the room, but was able to make it through. The image of JZ looking down on conclave from heaven, and smiling as we moved forward as fellow workers with God was almost too much for me to bear.

It's not as though I shouldn't have seen it coming. I've had a string of bad days recently where thoughts of JZ have just rushed into my head and overwhelmed my emotions. About ten days ago, I was out shopping with my wife and her mother, and just got this urge to talk to JZ about the Indians ... get his opinion on if they could only keep one, who should they keep: Pronk or Hafner. I could hear him arguing both sides, just trying to put all information out. And I missed him so much. And I still miss him so much.

I finally figured out on the drive home why this weekend was so difficult for me in regards to JZ memories. One, JT was the alumni delegate for my "home" chapter, and JZ's best friend. Two, of the two events I had no control over that pushed me to National focus, JZ was integral to both. He nominated me for Epsilon President way back in February of 03, and he organized the first multi-chapter STE Bowl game, which lead to my desire to see more of the same, as well as some recognition for me as chapter president, when the game was a great success.

I can credit my national involvement and my ascension nationally at least in part to JZ. And he's an icon in my life that none will ever replace.

I think I should look into getting some grief counseling. I've been overcome by emotion often recently. I've stared into the heavens and longed to talk sports with JZ. I've stood in department stores holding conversations with JZ. I've closed my eyes and asked Grandpa if he's proud of me. I've driven down 30 and wondered why I didn't do more to be closer with Erin.

It's not that I don't like to remember. I love to remember. It's not even the tears I don't like, because they remind me that I have great joy in part because of those I miss. It's just ... I feel like I'm not making progress, and I don't know what else to do.

I knew I was lucky when I got through 22+ years of life before I lost someone very close to me to the icy hand of death.

I guess I never realized just how lucky.