I am just a little haunted by the shadows of November. For those in America, we just celebrated Thanksgiving. Some time ago our government set aside the fourth Thursday in November as a day of national thanksgiving. At least that seems to have been the original intent. Now it is more about overeating, football and early "Black Friday" sales. For me it is mixed time of remembrance. I am incredibly thankful for the privilege of living in the USA. Here we have bounty unlike any nation and freedoms that are hard to be compared to. We live with little fear of terrorist attack, though that is changing a bit, still we have far fewer threats than much of the planet. I have a loving and wonderful family, a devoted and supportive wife and many friends. Materially I am better off than most people in the world and enjoy pretty good health. In addition to this I hold a strong spiritual confidence in the God who loves me and gave His Son so that I might have life eternal. So, yes, I have much to be thankful for.
However, November holds some darker memories, as well. My mom went to be with the Lord just days before Thanksgiving over 34 years ago but I still remember trying to get from Kansas to Pennsylvania on one of the busiest air traffic days of the year. I remember a dear friend who passed a couple of years ago just weeks before the holiday. I still think of him and his beloved wife each time I pass by their road on the way to our Thursday Morning Bible Study. Another close friend had the home going of her mom just days after thanksgiving morning. The pain of that event still lingers and I understand a bit of that pain. The deepest cloud that overshadows my November remembrances is the departure of my friend Tom. He was taken into the presence of his Lord just a year ago today. The images of that day are burned into the grey folds of my mind in ways that keep the moments past all too present. Saying goodbye. Being, pretty much assaulted by an over-zealous hospital staff. Spending time with the family and seeing a hole form in my soul that will take more than time to heal. November reminds me that, like David, my life walks through the valley of the shadow of death. Shadows cannot hurt you; however, they are unsettling and can leave your soul with a measure of uncertainty. It can leave you with a feeling of quiet anguish even when you know that death's sting has been quenched and that it holds no victory. Still the loss remains.
I am aware that Tom dwells where there is no more pain or sorrow or tears or brokenness. But I do not dwell there. Life goes on and the days turn into weeks and months and a year has passed. I drive by his house three times a week on my way to the gym and pray for his cherished wife who will wake up alone again that morning. I pray for his son and daughter-in-law who live just downstairs and two beautiful grandsons. I understand that it will be hard for them to remember their loving grandfather and as a "Papa" myself, it grieves my heart. I think of his daughter just a few miles down the road and how amazing God's grace has been in all of their lives.Tom would be proud of how they have lived and loved and survived the days and nights that have passed without him present. How his son Jon stepped up to be more than a big brother at the celebration of his daughter Melody's wedding. My eyes still get a bit misty when I reflect upon the "Brother/Sister" dance as Jon tenderly held Melody in his dad's absence at the reception. Amazing grace, amazing love.
For me there have been days when I missed the brother who always had my back. I miss the Pizza Hut buffet and times at Dunkin Donuts. I miss ice cream at Friendly's with our wives and long talks in the parking lot after Elders and Council meetings. I miss the flipping of his high beams as I turned onto Greycourt Road just to say good night and know even then he was thinking of me. The Lord has brought some pretty amazing healing in the past year, but, I still miss my friend. There are still times when I want to reach for the phone to see if we could just have a little time to talk. Thinking back it seems that those times were pretty scattered and not as often as we would have liked. However, the reality is that if we needed to talk we would always find the time. For a Pastor to find a friend, a brother, who simply accepts you for the flawed person your are is rare. To have someone who holds no special expectations of your calling and allows you to be real is a treasure that cannot be replaced. That friendship hole continues and I have no real expectation for it to go away. It will just be a part of life to know that something is gone that used to make my life a little more complete.
I have no magic verses or visions from God to end this post with some remarkable spiritual revelation. No special passage that makes this any easier. No resolution for the loss. No expectation that I will forget. Instead I have two phrases from songs that rattle around in my head when I find myself in moments of this kind of reflection. One comes from Joni Mitchell's song "Parking Lot": "Don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you've got til its gone." The other comes from Jim Croce, another musician and guitarist taken before I was ready to let go. Back in college days, when I could play a guitar, I played lots of his songs. The diversity that gave us "Leroy Brown","Roller Derby Queen", and "Rapid Roy" on one end and "Photographs and Memories, "Operator", and the one drifting through my mind even now "Time in a Bottle". Jim was right, "There never seems to be enough time to do the things you want to do, once you find them."
I am left with the reality of an absence that continues to cast a shadow over my soul from time to time. I am left to treasure the moments I still have with the ones I love and the people I care for. It has been said that life is not lost in weeks or days but moment by moment. My mission now is to build memories and take time to enjoy what time I have. The truth is I still find my days too full and the moments passing so very quickly. For all of us who loved Tom Earl, whose lives were touched and made a bit better in his presence we share a common blessing of a friendship that is irreplaceable. But, I don't think I would want it any other way. Friendships like these are to be treasured, never replaced. The memories revisited to warm our souls one more time.
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