If there was ever a mantra that fits the world of journalism to a T, it’s the saying, “It’s never done. It’s just due”.
Someone told me this early on in my public relations career, most likely because I have a hard time deciding that my writing is completely finished. If you write for a living, you know what I mean. A piece of writing that appears to be “done” at one moment can go through more and more rounds of edits until the deadline is upon you, and you simply must stop working on it. Oh, how you could use just a few more days, a few more hours, or even just a few more minutes to finish the work.
“It’s never done. It’s just due.”
Ian was a writer, too. It was in his high school years that I recognized his knack for it, as did his teachers. His research was usually quite solid and his thought process on point, but what really made my heart soar was Ian’s ability to turn a phrase with flair and style. He was on his way to being a true wordsmith.
In a study of Genesis, I listened to a pastor taking about rainbows. He spoke about the scientific definition of the rainbow: A beautiful multicolored arch in the sky caused by the reflection and refraction of the rays of the sun shining on falling rain.
Then, of course, he spoke of the biblical significance: The rainbow as a token of the covenant which God made with Noah when he came out of the ark that the waters should no more become a flood to destroy all of humanity.
The rainbow in the sky is the “sun in the storm” AND the “son in the storm.” The son, my Lord and savior.
Today, more than two years since Ian left us after an eight-month battle with cancer, I live my life under the Rainbow.
The storm, I fear, will never completely blow over.
There will always be clouds in my sky; the unrelenting soul-crushing missing that happens when you lose your child.
But, now and then, when the conditions are just right, the sun shines into my clouds and creates surprising beauty.
At first, it is faint … just a light hue of color as I gaze onto the faces of those I love and a glimmer of hope falls over me. Yet, slowly but surely, over time, I find myself in moments of vibrant colors. I am surprised to find that my smile is real, my laugh is deep and a sense of happiness feels true.
But there is no weather forecast on this journey.
Today, it may rain, the sun may come out, or — on the best of days — the rain and the sun may interact to create a rainbow over me.
Those days have tears and pain brought on by bittersweet memories. And, they have hope and love brought on by — those very same memories.
We walk in faith, looking forward to a day of reunion with Ian and all our loved ones who already call Heaven, home. I thank the Lord for his faithfulness to walk with me through this storm and for the rainbows that cover me.
A rainbow that formed at one of Ian’s favorite surf spots, Ehukai Beach on the North Shore of Oahu. It appeared to me and Lorna as we sat chatting about our boys.
Gift of God : Ian Coronas 