Things have a way of resolving themselves

One of the best friends I ever had - or expect to have - died early last Sunday morning.  He had not been sick for a long time - but long enough that his death was no surprise.  And still a shock.

One of the penalties of getting older (and there are several - though offset, I hope, by other benefits) is that people that you have known for a long time will pass away.  When my uncle died this past August, I realized that part of what I was losing with his death - apart from a loving uncle that would do ANYTHING for me - was one of the few people remaining on the planet who knew me before I knew myself.

With Len's death this week, I've lost another person in my life that I could count on - whatever the circumstance.  I've lost a man old enough to be my father - who treated me like a brother.  I will miss his wit, his eloquence, his precision, his warmth - his voice.

I will miss helping him get into the church on Sunday morning.  I will miss checking on him when a worship service ends.  His death is not real to me yet.  I  don't know when that moment will come.  Maybe it won't come all at once.  Maybe it will take a long time.  But - as Len often said to me - "These things have a way of resolving themselves."  Whenever I hear those words in my mind, it will be Len's voice that I hear.

I take comfort in memories of my friend.  Len was a man who knew that it took more effort and preparation to speak with brevity - and when he said "I will be brief," it was a promise you could count on.  I remember singing beside him for so many years - and with Gene Thompson and the late Phil Haddrill.  I learned how to sing beside these great men.  And I remember how Len would let his mischievous side show - making a comment in a stage whisper during rehearsal - perhaps one of the other sections stumbled or sang off-key - and when asked to repeat the comment, Len would cough and say "I was just clearing my throat".

Beyond my memories, the Lord has comforted me with these thoughts:  Knowing that Len and Maggie have been reunited after so long apart; That the pain and fear which Len experienced during his time in the hospital are over; That my good friend has now been able to hear his Lord speak to him those words that I still hope to hear someday - "Well done, my good and faithful servant".

I only hope that I can live out the remainder of my days in a way that would make Len proud.  And I hope that everyone who knew Len will find comfort in memories of him - having faith that the same God who allowed Len to be a part of their lives has not abandoned them in this time of sorrow.  Let us live as people who have hope of reunion with our father, brother and friend.

Take care.

Ghosts of Christmas Past

I've never really understood the whole holiday decorating thing.  I have dutifully assisted my brother-in-law in putting up his Christmas lights on more than one occasion - but I have been out of the holiday decorating mix in my own home for so long that I've lost touch.  There are a few factors involved, in my estimation.  My disposition is not suited to decorating, for one.  Since there seems no practical basis for the activity, a part of me just doesn't get it.  There are aspects of decorating that also don't work for me philosophically.  I know this sounds stupid - but part of me feels like it's just a way to fake yourself into the holiday spirit.  The especially "Protestant" part of me (those of you who have known me long and hard know what I'm talking about - the rest of you will just have to try and catch my drift) feels that - hey, if you can't get excited about the birth of the Savior for its own sake - you've missed the point.

But as this 50th Christmas approaches, and I drove home from dinner alone tonight, down a street I haven't traveled on in a long time (even though it's within walking distance from my home), I encountered part of the heart of true suburban Christmas excess.  Homes with so many Christmas lights and silhouette reindeer and plastic Santas, plastic choristers, plastic elves - lights, lights and more lights - that you know more than a small element of neighborly competition is involved.  "I love Christmas more than you!"  Displays of such conspicuous electrical consumption that the owners must have some twinge of regret when the December electric bill comes due.  Then I realized that the last time I had traveled down this street, I would have been going to visit my mother and father-in-law, both ghosts of Christmas Past now - and they reminded me that, administered in a proper dose, those Christmas lights can be beautiful in a place and a season where nights come early and stay late.  If you're lucky, you reach that point in your life where the ghosts that haunt you aren't frightening anymore; in fact, they can feel like old friends reminding you of things you hadn't quite forgotten - but almost.

I went to get a donut right after that.  Luckily for me, they didn't have any raised sugar so I came home and wrote this down.  It's fifty-fifty whether I go looking for donuts later.  Lord knows I don't need a donut - but the idea has its appeal.

That's the news from where I am.  "It's not a sad song, though you may feel it that way..."  Hope you have a safe and blessed Christmas and a Happy New Year wherever you are.

Take care.

Limping towards Blogoversary:T-minus 7 days and counting

I'm used to being busy. I am often extremely busy - as in, busier than most people (i.e. anyone else I can think of at the moment) care for. That doesn't normally affect my ability to focus myself; in fact, oftentimes having too much to do focuses me into a living laser. But I've been rather scattered lately.

My Dad's cancer diagnosis and surgery moved things into a different realm since the last weekend of February. Not because there was so much more to do - the change was due more to that fact that I ended up spending a good deal of time away from home (which meant less time to deal with all my normal commitments) coupled with a new set of issues which occupied my mind but concerning which there was little that I could actually do (other than prayer and remaining calm).

This probably makes it sound as though I was more worried about the whole situation than I felt (on the whole). Although I had a few dark moments, I felt that things would turn out OK - and knew that maintaining my composure was the right thing to do, even if the worst should happen. I had long ago steeled myself to the fact that my father (an overweight smoker with high blood pressure) could take his leave of this mortal coil with little or no warning - so facing that real possibility wasn't something I had never considered. Still, I like the world a lot better with my Dad still in it - so I'm quite gratified that his surgery was (seemingly) so successful.

He still has chemotherapy in his near future. In the weird logic of modern medicine, once he is healed up from this major surgery, his oncologist will begin to introduce toxic chemicals into his system to attack any cancer-like cells. Let's hope that the chemicals attack the "bad cells" and leave the "good ones" relatively undisturbed.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to getting my groove back. I need some exercise. I need some sleep. I need to get prepared for Easter. I need to prepare the basement for our new TV.

And I need to write a few more decent posts before my Blogoversary.
T-minus 7 days and counting.

Take care.

...how would you like to be The Boss for awhile?*

"It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and a good writer. Charlotte was both."
Charlotte's Web, E.B. White

I consider myself lucky that the best boss I ever had also became one of my best friends.

Apart from the fact that we have very similar personalities, there are three reasons why I think of Chico as my best boss:

1. He's an extremely intelligent person - who didn't lose his common sense along the way.

2. He understands the importance of making decisions at the right time - even when you can't be sure the decision itself is right.

3. He knows that the most important part of any organization - is the people.

For someone in a position of authority, this last point is critical. It has become a cliche in job interviews to make a statement like "I really enjoy working with people" - but how many who make that statement really mean it? Or, to look at the point from a different perspective: Who wants to work for someone who really doesn't value other people? (Not me.)

I've learned several valuable lessons from Chico over the years - both as boss and friend. Here's a few of my favorite bits of Chico philosophy (some are pretty much direct quotes):

- I would never screw you for the company; I would only screw you for my own personal gain.

[The importance of people over organizations reduced to a nutshell - and leavened with a believable measure of self-interest and/or humor.]

- The people who run the world are the people who show up.

[As they say with some give-aways: Must be present to win.]

- In a dispute with a woman, sometimes it's best just to ask her - "Honey, what's the right answer?"

[A close companion to that strategy is this idea:
Some things are more important than being right.]

It's not often that someone comes along who is a good boss and a true...
Oh hell - you get the idea!

Thanks, Chico. And to all you loyal readers and listeners out there -

Take care.


*Title courtesy of Randy Newman