See, me, and my generation, we hope to be measured one day in the same breath as the great people of the generation before us. In that generation the simplicity of life lived was the stunning portrayal choreographed by the depth found in the intricacies of magnificent minds with the perceived time to approach extraordinary. I am just a man, my Dad was a great man, a great man of God. His new place in heaven ensures what should always be, that I’ll look up to him. I do, and I will.
What was once just down the hall, now requires a plan, accounting for all. The sweet, trusted security only separated by a flight of stairs, is somewhere in the past, or at least not so easily found, or fast. The supported now strain to support, and one longs for it all, again to be the other way around.
This morning though, I remember my Aunt Janette. Below, I have shared a poem that I wrote in honor of my aunt. She was a beautiful person, inside and out. I was fortunate enough to have a relationship with her right from the time I was born. Last night when I looked at my calendar, and I let the date register with me, I stopped and I thought about my wonderful aunt. She is still very much missed and I cannot wait to see her again, one day, in heaven. This morning, I remember her, and I share this poem I wrote a few years ago.
Sometimes when I least expect it a moment is pulled from the normal and sets itself apart. That happened to me last Thursday when I ran into some old friends. It was an impromptu meeting that left me overjoyed to have a few minutes of interaction with them again after many years of being caught up in our own lives and the places our lives take us. I am thankful for those minutes, for those people, and for the mutual feelings we have for one another that were quite apparent last Thursday. It was a sweet reunion of sorts for certain.
Then there are my trips to Canada, to New Brunswick. Those trips always include sweet reunions, usually several. This trip certainly didn’t disappoint.
I find myself staring into the beautiful spaces that God created and letting my mind wander over the hills, through the valleys, and along the streams. In my mind all of it is wild, all of it is untouched, and all of it is revered by mankind. From the path my mind wanders along, I see the people who now walk the streets of gold, the ones we loved here on earth. I long to sit and visit with them again. I long to hear the familiar laughter that each of them often contributed to our family gatherings. I ache to look into the eyes of those heroes who have gone before me. In those eyes, there are windows to all-time, the windows dressed in love are unmistakable. The eyes invite you in to sit and stay for awhile, they exude love, and portray a confidence that all will be just fine, for where we are gathered, He is there also. Try looking into the eyes of a loved one, maybe an older one, but one who has assured their eternal salvation by giving their life to Christ, and tell me you don’t see all I have described here, and more.
I wrote this piece two years ago, and this morning, I honor my aunt’s life by posting the original words I wrote.
I am a fortunate man. God has blessed my family and I many times over. I am both humbled and thankful for all of the blessings that have come my way. One pleasure in life… Pleasures in Life
The sun dropped beneath the peaks while we were inside. The meal was good, we laughed til we nearly cried. Upon our return to the lit street aglow this night. I took in the scent… Family Parade
