Of Shade and Shadow
Personal thoughts on the passing of an old man
He’s gone. Dead. Passed away.
Gone.
Just yesterday, it seems, the call came. They found him in his recliner, laid back, as if asleep. I can’t count the times I came into the living room to find him like that. It was his place to rest; it was his place to think; it was his place to commune with God.
How would he have gone any other way?
The old man (I use the term with the greatest of respect) has been on my mind a lot lately. Independent, stubborn — in a loving kind of way, and determined to follow his God into eternity, he refused to be taken care of. A thousand and a half miles from any of his children, he lived on his own terms.
The shadow he cast over the lives of his family may never fade. Perhaps, in time, we may notice it less. Now in our sixties, all of his children will attest to the influence he wielded, frequently purposefully, but mostly without that intent at all.
Parents are like that if we let them be. I was happy to stay in the shade of this man; grateful for the protection from the heat of the long summer days.
And, shade there was. He offered guidance — when asked, and correction — sometimes without being asked. Over the years, he and I…
