Day 2: Reflections at Kure Beach

Just down the road from our house is Fort Fisher and the Armed Forces Recreation Area, a place that holds precious memories for me. The spring after my mother passed, Dad rented a house, (the Lazy Lime, Megan called it) and we gathered for a short family vacation. It was definitely different without Mom, but her jovial presence still made itself felt as we spent time with our loved ones. Time, that most precious commodity, was shared, not it memorable adventures or actions but in short, small installments of life. The long weekend passed to quickly but it culminated with the most wonderful  Easter morning I can recall. We went to the local beach to take in the sunrise and a near by church had set up a cross on the beach as centerpiece for their sunrise services. God meet us there! The rising sun warmed us as we reflected on God's goodness and his assurance that Mom was with Him, worshipping a manner we will never be able to understand on this side of glory. Jane captured the moment with a picture of the cross backdropped by the rising sun. It hangs in our house as a beautiful reminder that though we all must endure storms, God promises await those that remain faithful in spite of our moments of doubt and fear. 

Tribute for Gary

Gary was my personal alarm clock my senior year in high school. Our junior high was condemned Gary’s junior year, my senior year which meant the first bell rang at 6:15am each day. My undiagnosed sleep apnea meant many mornings I slept through my alarm clock. Gary was faithful to bang on my basement window to drive me out of my slumber. Gary’s mischievous, infectious smile was another memory I have of my friend. His passion for basketball, which were manifest in one-on-one games on his slanted driveway at Richards-Gebaur AFB, were a constant demand of our friendship. His laugh, which was more of a chuckle, and the proverbial peace sign were all part and parcel of Gary’s nature. I am grateful to have shared a short span of life with Gary and his positive nature. I have included an excerpt from a short story/memoir that I wrote recently recanting some of the adventures we shared together.

An excerpt from “Front Wheel Drive Mudding”

Time generally changes all of us but more so during our high school years by virtue of the car and its freedom, allowing us to broach our coming adulthood with a new level of independence. Many times, God’s grace prevents tragedy, other times our own recklessness and stupidity exact an expensive cost. Recently, we lost our mentee, Gary, to non-Hodgkin’s cancer and the brutal impact of Covid. I took it hard when I found out about his passing as I had begun to write a series of short stories recounting some of the tales we shared this past summer on Gary’s back porch in Athens, Ohio. He had picked me up at a nearby campground where Jane, my wife, and I were staying. We were passing through on our way to an extended trip to the Great Lakes but I had purposedly amended our trip to have a day with my old friend. I hadn’t seen Gary and his wife Margie since they showed up for my surprise 40^th birthday party, planned by Jane. Gary proudly showed me around Athens before we had lunch and then settled in for some catching up at his house. He gave me some tips for my travel to lower Michigan. In particular, he pointed out some great things-to-do around Silver Lake, an area where his mother had grown up and where his family continued to vacation at for years. As our time wound down, I pressed him on the issue of joining us for the 50^th anniversary of the class of 1973 at Belton High School in 2023. At first, he was non-committal but relented somewhat when we both agreed that his connections to our high school was stronger with me and Tim, other than his classmate and friend, Keith Parks. He said he would certainly think about joining our upcoming celebration and that I should keep him posted. After our visit, I talked with him by phone, sensing his fragility, and desiring to keep our renewed connection fresh. Seeing requests for prayers for Gary by Margie on Facebook, which I unfortunately checked irregularly, I called Gary’s mobile phone only to have the call go straight to voicemail. Intuitively, I knew before I searched the Athens obituaries but the confirmation of his passing still hit me in the gut and took my breath. Tears flowed as I read the account of my deceased buddy that was so alive just months before and sat with me on his beautiful enclosed back porch. As memories of Gary flooded back, I recalled the front wheel mudding tale of Tim’s Fiat and the horse laughing we enjoyed at his expense. It was then I realized death doesn’t destroy our memories, it merely crystalizing them in order to preserve the genuine joy we share in each other’s presence.        

 

              

 

 

Little One

Little one still being made in the womb

By the one who defeated death and the tomb.

What joy it will be to see your small face

Shaped by the hand the still pours out grace.

The unknown for us is….

                The color of your eyes, the shape of your toes

                The dimples in your chin, the crook of your nose

Is already known by Him who made all.

He sees you now in the womb and when you are quite tall.

We relish the time when you are a baby,

Decked out in your outfits, a little dirty maybe,

Most importantly, healthy, vigorous, and bright,

A joyful reflection of His Holy Light.

 

2-22-2014

Revised 3-14-16

Portraits

Wide eyed portraits of people known well

Noses and ears, smiles that are veiled.

Cousins and grandkids, nieces, and kin

Funny old dogs, pictures of friends.

Hung on the fridge, stacked in a pile,

A collage on the wall, whatever the style.

They generate memories of good times and fun

Beach trips and travel warmed by the sun.

Others remind us of those that are dear

Frozen forever, smiling, with cheer.

Four by six snippets of faces with joy

Mimi’s wee girls, Papa’s big boy

Families, together, caught by the lens

Happily freezing time with wistful grins.

Portraits and pictures are memories we keep

Long after babies, diapers and no sleep.

 

June 2003

Following The Wind

Following Wind

The gentle wind follows

As I make my way slowly but surely to a far-away land

Somehow, that far-away place doesn’t seem quite as far today

I feel more and more like an individual man

Each day brings more of a sense of responsibility

My emptiness seems less hallow

As I search for a new way

For my life to follow

Memories seems less inviting

Dreams seem more possible

Life is more enticing

As it ticks uncontrollably away

 

1977

Revised 3-11-2016