Monday, April 21, 2008

Call of The Mountains

A crisp August morning;
Wispy clouds, warm sunshine;
Unknown places; anxious faces,
Young and old on a Wilderness Trek




March along dusty trails;
Stumbling across ancient stones
Strewn randomly from Volcanoes
Drawn from the bowels of the Earth
in another time.



Heavy packs strain backs; a reminder of burden,
Grow heavier in thin mountain air.
Cool water, a gift for a thirsty soul
Abundantly flowing from melting snow.





Wildflowers, tamed by God
Adorn His creation in garden-like fields.








Snowfields, a reminder of winter
Paint barren mountains with color.



A quenching rain
Dampens all but spirits,
Giving birth to anticipation
Of warmth and hot food.

Smoking fires warm huddled bodies
And spark laughter in the evening chill.


Vistas from Mountain Perches;






Standing room only


to witness morning's


creation.




High camps offer front row seating
For Meteor showers in star filled skies.




Golden sunsets settle upon mountain tops
As God displays His handiwork.


















In August, a smoking volcano, St Helens....

In October, the people are gone;
Campsite fires have been quenched
With a new blanket of snow
Welcoming the coming of Winter.

The beautiful, ever changing, Goat Rocks Wilderness, in the southern Washington Cascade Mountain Range is one of my favorite places to go.

Wednesday, April 02, 2008

PROCESSING GRIEF:

As I attempt to process the events of the passing of my friend and brother-in-law, Bob, a myriad of thoughts dart in and out of my mind like Swallows returning to the nest. It isn’t easy for me to gather all the things I would like to say and put them on paper in an organized way. The thoughts on this paper come from my own mind, in my own way, unsolicited, but still, nevertheless, genuine.

Bob, a friend, a father, a grand-father, a brother-in-law, or whoever he was called by people, was a wonderful man! As I think about him, the thoughts that come to me are seeing him emotionally mixed with pain, restlessness and joy. For the most part, Bob had a love for joy and he spread it around to everyone in unselfish abundance. I recall his laughter! I loved to hear him laugh! His grin was priceless! It was real. It was warm and friendly.

The lives of those who knew and loved him have been blessed beyond anything we could have imagined. He will not soon be forgotten!

Bob lived through some very difficult times in his short life. Having his children torn from his heart left a gaping wound and a scar that was too difficult to hide and too painful to think about. My hope in this life is that none of us will ever be required to bear the same burden or experience the same pain.

Bob never once threw in the towel! No matter how badly he felt beaten, he never quit. What a powerful example!! He never quit trying. He gave…and gave …and gave; never complaining about himself; yet always making certain his kids were being taken care of. I doubt if we are fully aware of just how much and how often, and for how long, this great Dad provided for those he loved so much. It went farther, beyond mere child support. He would often go the “the extra mile” whenever it was in someone’s best interest. He was just that kind of man.

Even during the times when people would let him down, or take advantage of him, he never quit. He never quit having hope that things could be worked out between him and those he loved and he could get back on track with his life.

As the years went by and the light of the hope of restoration was snuffed out, I watched him begin to sink into himself. Much of the joy receded down deep inside of him, where not even the light could escape. He wandered, unsettled, pushing away those who were nearest to him. There wasn’t much joy or many smiles during those days.

One day a young lady came along and somehow made a difference. The old joy came back and the grin was as priceless as ever! They were a very happy couple for a while. I enjoyed going to their home and spending time with them. She was a wonderful lady and loved Bob immensely! They enjoyed some very happy times together.

I realize there were those who didn’t care much for her but I believe perceptions of her were made before they even had time to get to know her. I stand firm to say simply that she was the best thing to come along in his life for a long time. I saw them touching each other. I saw the way they looked at each other. It was clear to me that they had a very loving connection of the heart.

So what happened? They divorced. What was once there was snuffed out again. But you must understand that it was not by her doing. He became restless. He began to take his eyes off of the very one he loved, and focus inward. He indeed had some medical reasons for his condition, but there are no miracle cures for some things. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t break through the hard shell that Bob had built around himself. The more he focused inward, the thicker the shell grew, and the thicker the shell became, the more he focused on himself. He would not take his medicine, or take care of himself. He let himself “go”, even to not taking care of his own personal hygiene. He spent days in bed without getting up. He would not talk or interact with her; not even come to the table for dinner.

Some knew about his abusive tone; the guns; the threats, the insanity of it all. She could not bear to see him destroy himself and he would not allow her to help him get better. He was dragging her down and she couldn’t take it anymore. They divorced and Bob continued his spiral downward. His depression grew, and yet, he still wouldn’t try to take care of himself.

Having heard that he was contemplating suicide, I made a point of stopping by to see him. I wasn’t surprised to find him home, even though it took a very long time for him to come to the door. He apparently, had been in bed. I had to invite myself in. I tried to be “upbeat” and light-hearted. Nothing I said made it through the wall built up around him. He never smiled and seldom looked at me. He looked beaten down; lower than anyone I had ever seen. He slowly started talking as I asked him questions.

He said he couldn’t “run away” because the Police would pick him up and bring him back home, telling him that if he didn’t stay home, they would be forced to lock him up. He talked to me about just ending his life and getting it over with. The more I talked to him about his value and how much we loved him and how people were pulling for him, the less he seemed to buy into it. After an hour, I had to leave. I told him that I didn’t want him to hurt himself. I told him that he should try hard to turn his life around; that I would be there to help him, if he would let me. He never spoke after that.

I felt as if I had exhausted my resources and my strength. I had no other options. It was time for me to leave. As I got up, I hugged him and told him I would be praying for him to make the right decisions. I also told him that no matter how much I want to see him live, that choice was in his hands, not mine. I told him that if he decided to end his life, the rest of us would be there to pick up the pieces and move forward. I told him we would mourn for a period of time, but that afterwards, we would move on. Then I turned and left. As I drove away, I wondered what he would do. How can I stop him anyway?

Somehow, Bob did turn around and make changes in his life. I had lunch with him one day and he seemed happier and more joyful than I had seen in him in a very long time. Later, the more we wanted to get together, the less it seemed to happen. I spoke with him a few times afterwards. He would talk about what he was doing and that he was doing okay. On one occasion he told me that he was taking up “Line Dancing” and really enjoying himself!

He didn’t talk much about his health concerns. He kept all that to himself, I suppose.

In his last years, Bob frequently sent out emails that had to do with love of God and Country; more upbeat emails with joyful messages. I took them for granted. Perhaps I should have listened closer to what he was trying to tell me.

Those who loved him should be proud of him! He was a great Dad! I loved and admired a lot about him. He was an excellent example of reliability. He loved his kids a lot, and his grandkids even more!

There was no one like him.

My Niece recently reminded me of how we should all get along and treat each other with love and respect. I suppose if we all treated each other like today was our last day to see each other perhaps that would draw us closer together. The Bible reminds us that we do not know the day or the hour when the end will come. It does tell us that the end will come “as a thief in the night”. In other words, we don’t know.

Shoulda, woulda, coulda; three possibilities spoken in the failed past tense.

I will remember my friend, Bob for a long time. I, too, grieve his death, Megan. It is a hurt that cannot be rubbed away. It is a memory that cannot escape us.

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