final version of Death Farewells Goodbyes

final version, revision of:

Death, Farewells, Goodbyes

     Love is a quirky thing. One of my definitions being: missing their physical presence in my life. So if I miss someone then chance’s are that I love them. This is especially true when someone passes away. It is easy to forget how much I love someone when they are just down the street or a phone call away. To make excuses as to being to busy or rushed today to take the time, right now, for them. It is not uncommon for me, but I realized when people I loved had passed away how much I would give just to have one more chance to chat and have coffee.

     When my Dad moved on, it was quick. I was a drill sergeant at the time when I got word of his passing. The army was very good at getting me the time to go home and do the necessary things, but the one big loss I had felt at the time and still do, is just the having of a little one on one time, to have a cup of coffee with him, and get caught up on life. No major questions needing answered or help needed, just miss him is all and probably more than enough.

     My Dad has always fascinated me. Here was a man from a small northern Minnesota town whose upbringing was by no means nice or pleasant. He served in WWII, Korea, Vietnam for two tours, Ethiopia for years, married, raised a family of four, and retired from the Army in 1969, during the height of racial tensions. I always think of the things I could have learned from him in adulthood.

     I don't think a man really comes into adulthood or manhood till his father passes on. I know with me it was that way. Even though I had been sober since I was 28, was successful in the Army when my Dad passed when I was 32, I still feel like a part of me was in childhood till I was without my Dad to fall back on.

I often compare fatherhood to being an oak tree and until my father was gone and that giant oak was cut down, I did not have to let my roots and branches grow out. As long as he was around to lean and rest against I did not have to grow fully into myself.

     One of the great joys I have had in life was in watching my Dad grow up. As the youngest son I had it perhaps the easiest of it. My brothers from what I could garner had it a lot rougher than me, for my Dad did not have a good father role model growing up. More of the, this is what you shouldn't be as opposed to, this is what you should strive to be. By the time I came around and was growing up, I think he started to realize it was okay to be himself around children. I know when his grandson was born, he had a different out look on children totally from when I was a child.

     That is one of the benefits of sobriety for me. I use to take a mental picture of the person and froze them in time to how that picture was. I never gave them the chance to be a living breathing human being, making mistakes, growing up, changing for the better or for the worse. They could only behave according to how that mental image I had of them was. That is how I expected them to be and if they acted differently than that, than I could not figure it out. In sobriety I have learned to accept the people in my life for who and how they are at this point in their lives.

     After my brother Bob passed away, it was a feeling of what a waste. I felt here was a guy, my brother, who I just wish I could have shook some sense into. A man who had so much love in his life, but was so deep in the pit that his drinking had dug that he was blind to the path where the sun waited to warm his soul. Being sober myself, I knew the solution, but could not get my brother to see. I know what it is like to not be able to see until I am ready to see. I also know, that sobriety is something you have to want. I have met many who need it, but it is those that want it, that have a chance. I just sometimes forget that when I am dealing with someone I love. I would like to make it easier for them but I know that does not work.

     With my brother Dennis's passing, I felt like I was at the funeral of a man I never really knew. He had been out of my and my families life for close to if not more than twenty years. So in reality, I really did not know him, and that to me was a shame. When I was helping to clear out his stuff from the house, I was coming across items that I would like to have talked to my brother about. I can remember talking with him and it seemed every thing was just surface conversation and not anything of depth. I know he must have had some issues in his life and I would have liked to talk to him about those. I can honestly say I was never able to really figure out what made him tick and that was my loss. It is sad to have a brother I did not know well.

     Lastly, as far as family goes, my mother. This one, for me, is hard. Not only my mother but also my best friend and when she was gone, there was a hole in me where she use to be. With both my mother and father, my mom and dad, they both left holes that I do not think will ever be filled. But I have to think that, that is the way of it. Having holes not filled reminds me of what is missing.

     With family and loved ones, I think that is a matter of love. That with each one, parent, sibling, spouse, or child, that in my soul I have a place of love with their name engraved on. A part of my soul designated to each one, and when they are gone the love remains, but the soul aches for the physical contact with each one. Be it their voice, email, letter, or visit, I miss the contact with them. The love remains, honest true God given love cannot leave or go, but even with the love there, it is like any living thing, without the sunlight to brighten and give it strength then it just is.

     When my mom moved to the upstairs house, I was actually happy to see her go. It was actually well past time for her to have moved on. She was just stubbornly holding on to see that first great grandchild. Finally I think, she just said to hell with it, if I can't meet the little one here, I will meet her upstairs. I am sure that she gave the first future de-facto Jackson a long talking too, filling her with the in's and out's of her future family. I am quite sure that her parents will see an awful lot of their grandmother in her as she grows up.

     When she moved on, it was a matter of there being more people up there than down here she wanted to see. I like to think that her Father decided it was time to bring another faithful servant home to rest. From up there she knows she can keep her eyes on us down here and laugh at our foolish attempts to get Life right.

     From my Mom I got the value of “home”. It is not just a house you live in, but a place where you feel warm to the soul. I use to like coming home. It was where I felt at peace and where I could rest. A place where, when life had battered and bruised me, I could regroup and heal.

     I find it interesting that when I look back, I can see the places that had that feeling of home. My Grandparents house was one that whenever I walked in, it felt comfortable and restive. The home where I grew up was another. It seems that I can feel sometimes when walking into a house if it is a home or just someplace where a family lives. Whether it has a level of serenity and peace or a place of strife and quiet nervousness.

     Have you ever walked into a church and it was empty? That feeling of there is no harsh word spoken here. There is no anger allowed. This a place of restive contemplation and healing. A place where the price of peace has been paid and this is the reward.

     I take it as a compliment to my Mom and Dad when I have people over to my house. I think they sense this is place where no conflict lives. No controversy, no anger, no harsh words or strife, but a place where one can go: Ahhhhh and relax. Where the coffee is the only thing that is hot. The house where I live, is a home. It is where I am at peace and where serenity lives.

     Now there have been arguments and disagreements where I live. That is life, but the underlying foundation is one of peace and that permeates the surroundings and keeps everything in check. A balance of sorts to life. It is like sobriety. Every day is another sheet of paper laid onto the stack, secured by the glue of prayer and desire to be of use to my God. Soon it is a wall, eventually a home with a front door allowing me to enter and leave. It allows others to enter and to feel the peace that has been built by the love of my God.

     It is also a good and useful tool for me. For whenever I feel out of sorts, or like something is nagging at me when I am at home, it is a good sign that I need to look and see what is going on in my life. What is bring stress and discord into my home. A sort of living barometer of sorts.

     My Mom's house and my Dad's garage, this is what I remember and the feeling I got when I was in them. This is one of the gifts they gave me by living they way they did. They showed me by example not by words, that life needs a place to be centered in and build around and it is called “home”. 

Mortality

Mortality: no one gets out alive.

      Funny thing about Life, it comes with an expiration date. Unfortunately, when I was born, the nurse accidentally smeared mine when she was cleaning me off so I cannot read it. Every time I try and ask what it is, all I get met with is laughter. As in to live in the moment type thing and enjoy the now, for that is what is important, that is all I truly have. 

     One of the things that always gets to me, is to see someone dying who has never really lived. They seem to have gone through their whole life just being there, not having enjoyed or grown or discovered the good in life. Like every day is just another gray day of existence. Day after day of just being here without a clue as to what “being here” is really about. They seem to be the ones who walk through life with their head down looking at the ground. They never look up and see the sun shine or the children playing. As if life was just a process one goes through in order to get to heaven. It is just like putting in your time till retirement can kick in.

      If anyone, ever, hears me say, that my best days are behind me, please start throwing the dirt on the coffin. I have had some pretty great days in the past. They are the measuring stick for the great days I am having now. Sometimes they don't match up and sometimes they surpass the good old days. It is a joy and a gift from my God, that today I have good old days. I also have good new days, and with that the ability to look forward to the future good days.

      Life is a good thing. God did not give me this life to sit around waiting for it to pass. Every day I wake up and thank my God for this day he has given me and I ask Him to show me and to let me be of use to His other kids. I, then, go about my day doing exactly that. I try to be of use. I try to give a helping hand where it is needed, be it with my family, at work, home or with another drunk. I feel that my job in life to be of use to my fellows. Who and how I help someone is not my business, that is my God's, my job is to be ready and to keeps my eyes open searching. It is not a do-goody type thing. It is not a look how wonderful I am thing or a aren’t I a wonderful person thing. No, it is a I am a child of my God, and this is what I am suppose to do thing.

      I get an immense sense of joy from helping others. A sense of satisfaction of using my time wisely and in proper measure as to filling my life with a sense of worth. That is another one of my God's gifts to me. The feeling of being clean inside and out. I think sometimes it drives my girls crazy and they wonder if I am strange because here I am an American in Germany and it seems like I know everyone, or that I have lots and lots of friends. But that is how I live, an open life. I have no secrets, for I found out in sobriety I am only as sick as my secrets. If I don't want to be sick or worry what someone will find out about me, it is best then to be totally open about who I am and what I do. The funny thing about that, is when I am living this way, no one really seems to care what I am doing, they are more concerned with what is going on in their lives than to look at mine.

      These are lessons that have come to me over time and in reflections on my life. This is my God's way of teaching me and letting me learn. I have come to realize in a way that when I was born my clock started counting down. Eventually it will strike zero and when it does my time will be up. The only thing is, I do not know when it will strike zero. As in the beginning of this chapter, it is a way to kind of force me to enjoy the time I have and appreciate the life going on around me.

      I have many things I look forward to. From walking my daughters down the aisle to bouncing grandchildren on my knees and taking them down to have ice cream and tell them all the embarrassing stuff their parents did to helping out more of my God's kids to hopefully live a full life. Every day brings to me something new I look forward to, want to do, or do, all of it filling my life up and filling me with appreciation and gratitude.

      When my clock strikes zero and my time is done, I want a big, big, big party. A BBQ to end all BBQ's that will be talked about in my great grand children time. I do not want to see one sad face in the lot. I plan on living a long life. I am living and have lived a full life, full of both laughter and tears, with no real regrets and no “I wish I had”. This is my God's gift to me. To be able to see that my life has been full, to see the love of my family, and quality of my friendships and that I have to the best of my ability been of service to my God and to my fellows.

      I have a little bit crude joke I like : “when I was born a stranger slapped me on the ass and made me cry, when I die, a stranger is going to throw dirt in my face, everything in between is just gravy”. For me that frees me, it is one of the benefits of sobriety. I no longer worry about leaving my mark on the world, or who will miss me when I am gone, or what have I accomplished in my life. None of that, is my business any longer, and none of it means a damn. What is important to me is that the people I love, know that I love them, and I know that they love me. My God loves me and I love my God. All the rest of it in is just BS and I need to remember that in my day to day living. For that keeps me in the here and now, and real to those around me. Anything else besides love is just my ego.

more to come ... summer time lol

hello friends,
more is coming i promise, just enjoying summer with my girls lol. Life is good.
Larry

Power and Right to be Me

The Power of and the Right to be: ME

      There is something about sobriety that I have noticed is seldom talked about. When I got sober, through the Grace of God's help, I was pretty low down and had a low value of myself as a person, let alone a human being. The farther along in the steps I went, things started to change. The power contained in the steps is to get me in touch with a power greater than myself that can do for me what I cannot do. In my case stay sober. As I went along I started to realize that I was becoming me. The me that I had in mind for myself as I grew up. Not the me others wanted me to be, or the me that changed like the seasons to make you happy. Just me, one hundred percent, undiluted, standing on my own two feet, looking the world in the eyes, happy with who I am and who I am becoming, me.

      I like to compare things. I like to give examples so as to form a mental picture. It makes it easier for me to grasp concepts and situations. I compare myself to an oak tree. My roots, thanks to God's help, firmly planted in the soil reaching down deep, securing my being and my belief against the winds of Life that try to uproot me or topple me over. Growing tall and strong in the belief of my God's love for all his children, my branches outstretched to provide shelter, comfort and protection to my loved ones and those needing help. I do not care nor compare myself to others, any more that an oak tree compares itself to or cares what the pine and poplar think or are. Like apples to oranges, comparisons are usually silly and of no value. Each is to their own, compete and whole, and have no need to be anything else.

      It seems there are a lot of labels in the world. Liberal, conservative, democrat, republican, independent, black, white, asian, native american, mixed race, pro-life, pro-gun, catholic, lutheran, jewish, hindu, the list goes on endlessly I think. Life trying to use words, to describe someone, instead of letting there actions tell you who they are. Each person has the right, I believe, to be themselves, not type cast or stereotyped or forced to be the square peg in the round hole of a label. Just as I have the right to be me, I have to give them the freedom to be themselves, not to label them like a can of corn, expecting to conform to the limits of the can. That is one of the freedoms and strengths I have received for being sober and in searching for the God of my own understanding.

      I was given a brain so I could use it. I think the God of my understanding wants me to use it. I like to think I am a reasonably intelligent, mature man. I say reasonably because there are times when I like being childlike, and I still love a good cartoon, and the feel of riding my bike and stopping for ice cream like I was a kid. I have the ability to take information and to form and intelligent opinion or belief based on that information. I do not need someone else to form it for me and tell me what to believe. I am a free man, given the gifts that God gives all His children. I have no use for a government or group or person to tell me what is right or wrong, good or bad, rational or irrational. Let me form my own opinion just give me the information at hand.

Thursdays with a horse, Looking at Heaven

Thursdays with a horse.

Looking at Heaven

      Many times in life, I have marveled at the blessings I have been given. I write and talk a lot about perception and how sobriety has brought a change in my perception. The appreciation of what I have versus what I want. It seems as I get older, I am coming to realize that what I want, I already have. The important things like God, Family, and Love, not the transitory things like money, possessions, and such.

      I was over to visit my daughters yesterday, and as seems to be the case, whenever I am not looking, it hits me. I am a very lucky man. My girls were in the living room, the oldest on her laptop and the youngest laying on the couch. Both back from a day at school, relaxing, comfortable, safe and at peace. What more could I ever ask for?

      I look and I watch and am just amazed. How did this happen where I have two such wonderful girls? When I look at my girls, I see them as they are today, teenagers growing into fine young women. But I also see them as they were, remembering when they were in diapers, walking with them to their first day of school, and driving them to belly dancing class. I remember, in Colorado, taking Tabea to the circus, and picking Meyra up from her daycare. Special daughter, poppa times.

      Whenever I wonder what heaven must be like, I remember the feeling of holding them in my arms when they were babies and watching them sleep. That feeling of love, warmth and all is right in my world. I remember the feeling I felt, that fatherly pride, as Tabea, my eldest, walked into her prom. She was no longer Poppa's little girl, although in my heart she will always be, she is a young woman. During the course of evening, there was the traditional father and daughter dance. That was a bitter sweet moment, almost a precursor to the father giving the daughter away at her wedding. I know that time will come, this was the just warm up, a glimpse into the future. I am pretty sure that I will be just as proud then and just as heart broken.

      Every Thursday I get the opportunity to visit a little slice of heaven. I get to take my youngest daughter horseback riding. Seeing her smile as she gallops on her horse is almost a direct link between my heart and heaven. I may be a sentimental old fool, but seeing someone I love, enjoying what they are doing, oblivious to the world around them, care free for that instant in time, is just that, sentimental and precious. A respite in time, a glimpse into what I feel is God's love for all his children.

      Big beautiful horses and God's kids playing under the sun, enjoying the, and living in, the moment. When I wish I could freeze time this is what I mean. But this is what memories are for. God's little Polaroid moment forever lock in my memory of how good life can be and what heaven must surely be like.

just a friendly reminder if you like this

Hello friends, just a friendly reminder if you like this blog, you should like my first book, "The Dirt Road on Which I Walk"  available in eBook format just about any where and available on Amazon.com for download, or kindle, or softback.  also, like i said previously 2nd book coming out end of July - mid August.. In all things with Love and Laughter, God Bless Larry

lot more coming

well fiends, seems that my writers block has broken, and the literary juices are flowing so more to come and on a more regular basis.  second book should be out in end july- mid august time frame.. thanks in all things with Love and Laughter , God Bless Larry.

Of Death, Farewells and Goodbyes

Death, Farewells, Goodbyes

      Love is a quirky thing. One of my definitions being: missing their physical presence in my life. So if I miss someone then chance’s are that I love them. This is especially true when someone passes away. It is easy to forget how much I love someone when they just down the street or a phone call away. To make excuses as to being to busy or rushed today to take the time right now for them, is not uncommon for me, but I realized when people I loved had passed away how much I would give just to have one more chance to chat and have coffee.

     When my Dad moved on, it was quick. I was a drill sergeant at the time when I got word of his passing. The army and my command were very good at getting me the time to go home and do the necessary things, but the one big loss I had felt at the time and still do, is just the having of a little one on one time to have a cup of coffee with him, and get caught up on life. No major questions needing answered or help needed, just miss him is all and probably more than enough.

     After my brother Bob passed away, it was a feeling of what a waste. I felt here was a guy, my brother, who I just wish I could have shook some sense into. A man who had so much love in his life, but was so deep in the pit that his drinking had dug that he was blind to the path where the sun waited to warm his soul. Being sober myself, I knew the solution, but could not get my brother to see. I know what it is like to not be able to see until I am ready to see. I also know that sobriety is something you have to want. I have met many who need it, but it is those that want it, that have a chance. I just sometimes forget that when I am dealing with someone I love. I would like to make it easier for them but I know that does not work.

      With my brother Dennis's passing, I felt like I was at the funeral of a man I never really knew. He had been out of my and my families life for close to if not more than twenty years. So in reality I really did not know him, and that to me was a shame. When I was helping to clear out his stuff from the house, I was coming across items that I would like to have talked to my brother about. I can remember talking with him and it seemed every thing was just surface conversation and not anything of depth. I know he must have had some issues in his life and I would have liked to talk to him about those. I can honestly say I was never able to really figure out what made him tick and that was my loss. It is sad to have a brother I did not know well. 

much more to follow.....  

Conversations Over Cofee. book 3, Cover and beginning.

 

 

DEDICATION

To my family, friends, little sisters, and those I have had the pleasure of having a cup of coffee with and babbling on about Life. It is a wonderful thing be it black or with sugar, cream or in any combination, just as Life is a wonderful journey.

Forward

This is a work of fiction, names and all that are not real, just made up in my silly little brain.

 

1 Tree of love

      The evening spring rain having stopped as the sun was setting. We, my friends and I sat around the coffee shop finishing our cake and drinking our coffee. I was enjoying the conversation, a myriad of ever changing topics. It was as diverse as the company of friends I sat with. A retired couple, enjoying watching their grandchildren, a young couple in their, must be, early 30's, a single mom and a man around 20 maybe 21. Yes, tonight had a diverse group chatting away and I was enjoying all the different points of view.

      The elderly lady, seeing me observing but not participating, brought me back to the table when she asked me, “So, Jack, what is love?” My answer was simple, “Love is a tree” I said. She looked at me slightly perplexed , and said “well go on, this should be good” she chuckled, thinking I was in the process of making a joke. Not knowing me too well, she did not yet understand, asking me to expand on a topic can be a long time consuming thing. So, I took a sip of coffee, lit a cigarette and started.

      “Love is a tree,” I said. Our own personal tree, which we tend and prune. When we are born, I believe, the little seedling, of love in us, takes root. At it's core is the love of the Father, from whom all love springs from. Since we are too young to nurture it or water it, our parents do that for us. Giving us their love, from their own trees , to nurture our trees to grow. As we grow, so does the roots of our tree dig deep and firmly into the soil of our being, our soul, becoming as firm and hearty as the oak or redwood. For it is trying to grow as our maker would has us be, tall and lush, basking in the light He provides.

      Now a tree has branches that stem from the main trunk. At the center of the trunk is our love of our Father. As a tree's age is told by its rings, so the first ring would be the love of our parents. 

LOL  Just the beginning I hope...