It's taken some time, but I now have an idea of how to describe my perspective of what happened in Jay's family.
Have you ever read a book called The Giving Tree? It's a little picture book about the relationship between an apple tree and a little boy as he grows up.
When I first read the book as a little girl, I loved it. The simple ink drawings were charming, and the loving way the tree continually gave itself to the boy over the years seemed so sweet. Then one day, my dad said, "I don't like that book. The boy never says thank you."
Huh, I thought. Dad's right. The boy keeps asking for stuff and the tree keeps giving, but the boy never says thank you. With that realization, the story lost its simple appeal for me and I didn't look at it again for years.
Then last week the kids received the book from a long-distance friend and I re-read the story. I was appalled. It is the story of Jay's brother and mother.
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The Taking Boy
Once there was a mother...
and she loved a little boy.
And every day the boy would come, and he would listen to her stories and hug her neck and babble sweet things into her ears.
And when he was tired, he would snuggle on her breast and sleep in the shelter of her arms.
And the boy loved his mother...very much. And the mother was happy.
But time went by.
And the boy grew older.
And the mother was often alone.
Then one day the boy came to his mother and the mother said, "Come, Son, come listen to my stories and hug my neck and be happy."
"I am too big to cuddle," the boy said. "I want to do my own thing and have fun. Can you give me fun?"
"I am sorry, Son," said the mother, "I guess I do not have fun. But I can give you some independence. Take some independence and go out with your friends. Then you will have fun and you will be happy."
So the boy took independence and left the room to be with his friends.
And the mother was happy.
But the boy ignored his mother for a long time...and the mother was sad.
And then one day the boy came back and his mother shook with joy and she said, "Come, Son, listen to my stories and hug my neck and be happy."
"I am too cool to listen to your stories," said the boy. "I want an income to support my lifestyle," he said. "I want to play and only work part-time and so I need an income. Can you give me an income?"
"I have no income for you," said the mother. "But you may take a room of my house and I will cook your meals for you. Then you will be happy."
And so the boy moved into a room of her house and quit his job and only came out to take meals from her refrigerator.
And the mother was happy.
But the boy isolated himself in his room for a long time.
And when he came out, his mother was so happy she could hardly speak.
"Come, Son," she whispered, "come and sit with me."
"I am too depressed and sick to sit with you," said the boy. "And you are annoying to be around, anyway. I want drugs that will take my mind far away from here. Can you give me drugs?"
"Take my time and goodwill and health insurance and buy drugs," said the mother. "Then you can take your mind far away from here...and be happy."
So the boy took her time and goodwill and health insurance and sailed away into dreams.
And the mother was happy...
But not really.
The mother realized that for years she had given everything to the boy, but his demands and hurtful words continued to increase with no regard for her.
And she was tired.
When she told the boy things needed to change, he became furious, and cursed at her.
The mother began to be frightened of the boy, and she hid from him.
One day, the boy came to the mother with anger on his face and said, "I need more time and goodwill and health insurance! No one else will give it to me! Give it to me now!"
The mother said sadly, "I am sorry, Son. I can no longer give you what you want. I am sorry. But I still have goodwill. Come, Son, sit with me and be happy."
But the boy shouted, "If you do not give me what I want, then I will take from you the only person you seem to care about!"
And the boy cut down his mother.
When the boy stood up and looked around, he was not in his room in his mother's house.
He was surrounded by prison walls.
"If only she had given me what I wanted, I could have been happy," he complained to himself.
Then he heard a voice from Heaven saying, "Son, if only you had let me give you what you really needed, you could have been as happy as I am."
All alone, the boy sat down on the only thing he had left, the stump of his memories.
But the mother's happily-ever-after story was only just beginning.
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This story ends much like The Giving Tree, but for different reasons. The original ends with the boy sitting on the tree's stump, and the tree being happy. (In the book, the tree told the boy he could cut her down--which is not the way our family's real-life story went. In court, we wept as the coroner described my mother-in-law's defensive wounds.) Our family story ends with the mother being blissfully happy, surrounded by angels and God's glory in Heaven, while the boy sits alone, in prison.
Is the boy happy? The Giving Tree doesn't tell us, and in reality, we will never know. Was it the life goal of Jay's brother to drain everything he could from his mom, and when she could/would no longer supply his demands, to take her life?
Probably not. But the pattern of self-centered taking without genuine thankfulness started for Jay's brother at a very young age. How would things have been different if he had learned to give, as well as to receive, and to have respect for others? How would things have been different if his mother had run out of "gifts" earlier...or later?
Once again, we will never know. But we do know a few things.
1) Being "cut down" was not my mother-in-law's fault.
2) My mother-in-law is now experiencing freedom from all worry and hurt...and she is happy.
3) My brother-in-law has decades of sitting to do. We pray that during all that sitting time he will learn that only taking is a dead-end; we pray that he foremost learns to give repentance, and so be able receive the most important gift of all...forgiveness.
