Swaying Hugs and a Road Song

Frost on the Windshield

The recent snowfall painted a serene backdrop for my lengthy road trip to offer a final goodbye to someone that I’ve known most of my adult life. It seems I’ve lost count, but I know that I’ve attended far more memorial services in the past few years than I have in my entire lifetime. “It’s that circle of life thing”, a friend reminded me. His reply seemed far too casual… maybe even a bit too basic. And as much as I would like to think differently, he was absolutely right.

The calm of the distant drive had a soundtrack, but with little volume. Sometimes there was no volume at all. Instead I tuned to the noises of the moment… the wind, the road, and my thoughts as mile markers passed by as if to keep time.

As mournful as expectations were, the day was instead a celebration. I rekindled with faces I’d not seen in years. Those reunions were often followed by hugs. Long ones. The ones that make you sway back and forth in one another’s arms for what seems like forever… those welcomed kind of forevers. The day was filled with plenty of shared words of comfort. Smiling strangers offered personal accounts, memories, and stories of a man that we each knew just a little bit differently than the other. I laughed far more than I cried. At times, laughing loud enough that people sitting in pews in front of me would look back with a smile. Seems everyone did.

The return home soundtrack was not much different than the one from hours earlier. Loosening my necktie, I turned south on the rural two-lane route. Smiling, I waved back to the oncoming driver with four raised fingers from the top of my steering wheel. My right hand reached for the dial on the dash to raise the volume on the stereo. A mile or so later, I raised it even more. Each of those familiar lyrics was a longtime friend of mine. I sang the words to every song while reflections of miles passed behind me in the mirror, each seemingly humming the very same song.

silent celebration

Yesterday I made a two-hour drive to say my goodbyes to a longtime friend. Most of my drive was spent listening to the silence of my thoughts equally balanced with the soft hum of the road. An overflow of memories was my co-pilot.

The emotional evening was a celebration of lives touched by a beautiful, spirited, and love filled woman. Selfishness always seems to get in the way when I unexpectedly lose a loved one. My thoughts are always the same, wishing I'd had the chance to say goodbye.

With fewer than twenty days marked from the calendar this New Year, most have been filled with unexpected love, including these past few days of recent loss.

A gorgeous bright moonlight assisted my headlights in lighting the long rural road trip home. Just as I had done earlier in the day, my co-pilot was once again the silence of memories, this time though, they were paired with many tears of love. A life’s celebration continues.

defining self. remembering others.

Defining Self

Between the news I heard last week and the question I was asked this morning, I've spent much of today taking a far closer look than normal at myself.

Following my morning coffee, weeding through emails, and a few good morning kisses from the pups, I headed out the door for Sunday worship. Recently I've missed more sermons than heard and today I wanted to change that trend. It is after all a new year. For me, the best messages aren't those that are simply well prepared and delivered from a pulpit, but instead the ones that suggest deeper thought and self-evaluation. Today was one of those kinds of sermons. The takeaway as I made my walk to the car was quite simple, “what defines me?”

Ironically I’d already begun asking myself this very question on Friday afternoon upon hearing that a friend had passed away. I was shocked by the news and to my surprise, she hadn’t passed recently, Friday marked the fourth anniversary and I never knew. Naturally, I spent the balance of Friday in memory mode. It was a healthy mental time and two days after receiving the news, it continues.

The older I become, I find myself holding onto my past more than I once did. I certainly don't make it a point to live for the past, but I have great respect for it being responsible for much of the very thing my pastor discussed this morning. In all of it’s greatest, worsts, and more than it’s share of mediocre days, my past defines the very man that I am today.

Reflection is a way I continue moving forward. That evaluation of knowing where I’ve been propels me. My father guided and taught me more than his share from the time I was a child through my adulthood. His far too early death nineteen years ago however didn’t erase those life lessons. I still use them… many of them daily.

Although we hadn’t seen one another in several years, the news of Donna’s passing still saddens me. To say that she died too young is such a cliché, but it’s the best I can come up with and the fact is, she did. I’m incredibly grateful however for all of the life and laughter that she brought to mine. Each of them are now blessings.

The passing of time continues to move quicker than it once did, all the while defining me and defining us. Hold onto it.