Thursday, July 8, 2021

Starting Fresh and Remembering Pop

I (STILL) HAVE A BLOG!

So .... after almost 9 years, happenstance reminded me that I have a blog; one that is indeed alive, although perhaps not well. This cosmic prompt resulted from a search for a site to host a new photography blog. When I clicked the Google link for Blogger this page popped up, let out a great sigh of relief and calmly scolded, "I've been wondering when you were going to pay me some attention." Apparently, I never signed out. After a brief active life, new posts stalled (okay, ceased entirely) in September 2012. Originally intended as a place to chronicle life on our ranch in the north Mississippi hill country and other random musings, I've decided to re-purpose it for photography and keep the title for now. If you are interested in the title's origin, see the first blog post. 

We have been back in the city for over 6 years now. Rereading these posts brought back many fond memories of our time there. Some made me smile. Some made me cry. Some did both. And, at least one made me ask myself, "What was that all about?" (I'll let you figure out which one that last one is!) 

I discovered the last post I wrote in September 2012 languishing in the "draft" folder, patiently waiting for me to click the Publish button. It follows. In keeping with the theme of posts that rekindled fond memories and made me smile as well as cry, this seems like a good way to restart this blog. Photography will follow later.

E.O.P. (1934 - 2004) Mrs. L's dad, my father-in-law, passed from this earth eight years ago this week. Reprinted below is the eulogy I gave at his wake.  Hopefully this will rekindle fond memories in those who knew him.  For those of you who did not, I hope you will read on and catch a glimpse of what you missed.

.......................

In reflecting upon life, Henry David Thoreau wrote:  “Time is but the stream I go a fishing in.  I drink from it, but while I drink I see the sandy bottom and detect how shallow it is.  Its thin current slides away, but eternity remains.”

Over the past few days, we have reflected a lot on Pete, his life, and our own lives.  Dad’s health in the last few years really limited what he could get out and do.  Most of all, Mom told us, he missed his fishing.  So, like Thoreau, Pete came; he fished awhile; he drank fully from the stream of life ; and then the current of this life slid away and he moved on to the next part of his journey.  Life as we know it takes place in the shallow end of the pool, and in due time it ends.  But for Pete, there is something more than we can see in the shallow end.  Life as he now experiences it takes place at a deeper level and lasts for eternity.

Pete was the most generous man I knew; something else we have talked a great deal about these past few days.  God blessed him with a spirit of giving.  Whether it was his children, his grandchildren, his sister, or his in-laws, to those in need he gave -- without hesitation, and in abundance.  Beyond that, he gave even when no need existed.  He gave to others just to give, because it was simply his nature to give.

In going through Dad’s office yesterday, I found a copy of his personnel file with the police department that he obtained when he retired.  It was full of commendations and letters; from the great: praising him for saving the life of a wounded officer, to the small: from parents thanking him for stopping by the hospital to say a few words to a sick boy.  The following letter, however, summed it up:
November 19, 1969 
Mr. F.   H.
Director of Fire and Police
Memphis, Tennessee 
Dear Mr. H., 
     This letter is to inform you of the outstanding job one Officer Pitre of your force is doing.  He is also a true Southern gentleman as well as a good Samaritan.
     Last Thursday, November 13, 1969, while I was driving north on Main Street about 1:15 p.m. my car stalled in front of where the Warner Theatre previously stood.  Traffic was tied up and I was getting frantic.
     Officer Pitre drove up on his white motorcycle and offered assistance.  Due to my negligence my car was out of gas as my gas gauge does not register properly.  Officer Pitre did not act disgusted nor did he give a lecture.  He was most considerate and willing to assist in any way he could.
     He pushed my car over to the curb so I could call road service and so the traffic could move freely again.
     He had to push the car uphill with myself and my mother in the car.  This is quite a feat of strength.  And he did this as if it was a matter-of-fact part of his job.  Even though the whole incident was my fault.
     ….
     [P]lease make an effort to see that Officer Pitre gets recognition for the kindness he performed in my behalf.  Please let his immediate supervisor see this letter to let him realize what a fine policeman he has working for him and as Officer Pitre was very courteous and helpful, not at all over-bearing as people picture policeman today.
     I hope Officer Pitre has a successful career as a policeman because he has reached that goal as a plain human being. 
Sincerely,
Mrs. M. A. O.
That is the man I knew.

While Dad’s passing is certainly a loss, know too how much we are aware that his presence in our lives for these many years was a blessing and a gift.  The time he spent in this life was God’s gift to us.  In the coming years, something he said or did, or didn’t do, will cause us to smile or laugh, pause with gratitude, or simply look at one another and say “I love you.”  And that will be Dad’s gift to us.  So even in death, his spirit of giving will forever live.  Our gift back to him and back to God will be our own generosity to others; in their times of need and in their times of plenty.

In his prayer of confession, St. Augustine expressed the longing of all humankind as he prayed, “Lord, you have made us for yourself and our hearts are restless until they rest in thee.”  We are comforted in the knowledge that Pete’s heart is now at rest, while we seek the provider of that rest in our own hearts, for we know that we do not live by the breath that flows in and flows out, but by Him who causes the breath to flow.
As we face the coming days and look at the direction of our own lives for the years to come, I offer you these words of Fr. Thomas Merton, that you may pray them and make them your own:

My Lord God,
I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
Nor do I really know myself,
and the fact that I think that I am following
your will does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you,
and I hope that I have that desire in all that I am doing.
I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road
though I may know nothing about it.
Therefore, will I trust you always
though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for you are ever with me,
and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

Requiescat in Pace

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