May is cooperating beautifully. The weather is warm and sunny. Family groups have been wandering around the campus everywhere. You can feel the excitement in the air. My parents are here and delighted to be sharing this great event. Sheldon is working for the seismic crew this summer, but his boss gave him time off so he could join us. My sister and I graduate tomorrow. Considering the rocky start I made of my first year, it’s amazing to be here. I’m on cloud nine!
Three years ago the two of us boarded a bus and headed for Edmonton. Doris was nineteen and I was eighteen, leaving home for the first time. We were entering a new environment with anticipation and no worries about handling it. After all we were “grown up”, and just going on with our education. What was there to worry about? Continue reading
They were gathered together, family and friends, needing the comfort and love of those who understood the gap this death left. Memories were shared, stories told, and chuckles heard. Some tears were choked back. Finally Doug spoke with a voice he strove to keep steady.
“When someone you love dies, you lose the person, but the relationship lives on.”
A hush fell on the group. Some nodded. One chap put his arm around Doug’s shoulders and said, “Bob would be happy to know his son feels that way, Doug. Hang onto that insight. It will be a tie to him that will be priceless.”
In the last year I was reading one of Jim Taylor’s blogs. He wrote of the death of his lifelong friend, Bob Little, and recounted the statement made by Doug. My response to it surprised me. A jumble of emotions poured over me. Sadness, joy, pain, frustration – all were there. Above all, though, there was a feeling of recognition. Continue reading