Rod, this is beyond poignant. It is cutting in the way that only truth which agrees with one's conscience can be. God bless you for sharing it. RIP Jack.
It's funny Rod should post this tonight, Halloween. When I was in college, Halloween was always the best party of the year, by a mile. The memories. And I posted something to this effect on Facebook, and lo and behold, people who'd been part of those memories - who in some cases I hadn't interacted with in years - came out of the woodwork to "like" it and comment.
And I thought - these are the people I loved once, so long ago, and in truth I still love them. We were together at formative times in our lives, and though our paths diverged, nothing can take away the time we spent together, the things we did (politically incorrect though some of it may have been), we are forever bonded by our shared experiences and shared memories.
And I have this urge now to tell these folks straight up: I love you. I cherish those times. It was some of the most fun I've ever had in my life, and so meaningful in the impression it made upon me - to the point here I am reminiscing fondly about it, nearly 35 years later.
A Facebook post to this effect or a direct email (assuming I even have these folks' email address) seems a bit.. maudlin? Goofy? But then, several of the group has already died, including one dear friend who committed suicide two years ago. There's this very palpable sense that time is running out, and that I need to tell these people how much they meant to me, because it matters - to me, I guess.
As horrible as a lot of the last couple of years have been, I hate to say "It's been a bad day." Certainly there have been a lot of days with a lot of bad things in them, but I try to keep in mind that every day is a gift from God - "This is the day that the Lord has made". In that sense, who am I to callously write off a day as bad?
For better or for worse, we make our earthly sojourn in time. I believe that when we are with God, we will be freed from that, but it is what it is now. Because the time is so finite, it's precious. In this sense, time is love, because it's the sacrifice of that precious thing for the other. It's an incredibly important way of showing love, but it's not the only way either. Having lived in various places, with family and friends scattered across countries and continents, it's a hard and sad thought that there are many of these people whom I will probably never see again. It doesn't mean that I don't love and care about them, though. When I was younger, I didn't understand that well; I thought that if I didn't hear from folks, they probably had figured out some reason to hate me. Now that I'm older - and much more secure in God's love - I'm much better at rejoicing when I do get to share time with these people, because there's something sacred about it, period. And the Evil One will use our own thoughts to try to sully that.
There's a ton of talk about "love languages" and such, but I think that prayer as love gets forgotten a lot. It's one of the reasons I feel so inadequate about my own prayers... But it's a way to join ourselves to God and to the saints and to each other. Yes, it takes time, and yes, there are times when physical presence is what is called for, but it's not the only way.
Wonderfully written, Rod, and sorry for your loss. I gave a testimonial at my Catholic Men's group earlier this year on the blessing of male friendships. It's real and it's important to be a "man in full".
Great writing and great work. The Orthodox have the best cemetery section and mortuary chapel at the local graveyard near where I live. The chapel is in the graveyard and covered in beautiful frescoes, surrounded by a peaceful atmosphere. What a great reverence for the dead. There are two nice icons of Christ and Theotokos that you can see through the window. The Greeks have their own areas, then Serbs, etc. however small.
Rod, this is beyond poignant. It is cutting in the way that only truth which agrees with one's conscience can be. God bless you for sharing it. RIP Jack.
May I in fellowship share a poem I wrote with you, Rod?
Joseph and Nicodemus
(John 19:38-39)
What a disheveled heap
This bled-out bone bag makes
Crusted with spit and sweat
Entrusted with threats to the two of us
The workman’s wiry muscles, now slack
Are pitiful as they break through the flayed skin
But the blood – it is all gone, tired of flowing
Clotted and forgotten at the dirt footer of
The flogging pole
And of course
That cross
We avert from each other
But we cannot stop our own tears
Squeezed out between our eyelids
That should shield us from what we see here:
The candlewax pallor
The shamed nakedness we wash and cover first
To give the modesty the audience denied
Our towels dipped in the pots
We lugged down the stairs
The water pinks now
In the lamplight
Part by part
Limb by limb
We dampen and rub away
All the vestiges on
The shell of a delivered-over spirit
One of the winding cloths rolls below the ledges
We reel it in and wrap his arms
From the swaddles on our grizzled forearms
We have grown wrinkles under our tears
The weight is almost beyond our old-men strength
We heft and lean
Balance and wrap
The acrid spices
The confined space
Bring more tears
More tears
We find we do not need
The water any more
--Latayne C. Scott
An astonishingly moving poem. Thank you for blessing us with it.
I have no words … beautifully written, Rod.
Good friends. Cherish them. One of the few anchors we have in this life. As you get older, this becomes even more clear.
It's funny Rod should post this tonight, Halloween. When I was in college, Halloween was always the best party of the year, by a mile. The memories. And I posted something to this effect on Facebook, and lo and behold, people who'd been part of those memories - who in some cases I hadn't interacted with in years - came out of the woodwork to "like" it and comment.
And I thought - these are the people I loved once, so long ago, and in truth I still love them. We were together at formative times in our lives, and though our paths diverged, nothing can take away the time we spent together, the things we did (politically incorrect though some of it may have been), we are forever bonded by our shared experiences and shared memories.
And I have this urge now to tell these folks straight up: I love you. I cherish those times. It was some of the most fun I've ever had in my life, and so meaningful in the impression it made upon me - to the point here I am reminiscing fondly about it, nearly 35 years later.
A Facebook post to this effect or a direct email (assuming I even have these folks' email address) seems a bit.. maudlin? Goofy? But then, several of the group has already died, including one dear friend who committed suicide two years ago. There's this very palpable sense that time is running out, and that I need to tell these people how much they meant to me, because it matters - to me, I guess.
A needed reminder which has prompted me to act. Thank you.
Aionios i mnemi sou.
Sorry about your friend brother. May his memory be eternal.
Thank you, Rod. I really appreciate your wisdom.
Just returned from Mass, I will pray he’s in the company of the Saints.
Beautifully written. A good reminder that although the world may rage around us, there are still things worth dignifying.
Memory eternal. ☦️
powerful and moving . thank you rod for continuing to tell me things i did not know i needed to hear until i read them.
As horrible as a lot of the last couple of years have been, I hate to say "It's been a bad day." Certainly there have been a lot of days with a lot of bad things in them, but I try to keep in mind that every day is a gift from God - "This is the day that the Lord has made". In that sense, who am I to callously write off a day as bad?
For better or for worse, we make our earthly sojourn in time. I believe that when we are with God, we will be freed from that, but it is what it is now. Because the time is so finite, it's precious. In this sense, time is love, because it's the sacrifice of that precious thing for the other. It's an incredibly important way of showing love, but it's not the only way either. Having lived in various places, with family and friends scattered across countries and continents, it's a hard and sad thought that there are many of these people whom I will probably never see again. It doesn't mean that I don't love and care about them, though. When I was younger, I didn't understand that well; I thought that if I didn't hear from folks, they probably had figured out some reason to hate me. Now that I'm older - and much more secure in God's love - I'm much better at rejoicing when I do get to share time with these people, because there's something sacred about it, period. And the Evil One will use our own thoughts to try to sully that.
There's a ton of talk about "love languages" and such, but I think that prayer as love gets forgotten a lot. It's one of the reasons I feel so inadequate about my own prayers... But it's a way to join ourselves to God and to the saints and to each other. Yes, it takes time, and yes, there are times when physical presence is what is called for, but it's not the only way.
Wonderfully written, Rod, and sorry for your loss. I gave a testimonial at my Catholic Men's group earlier this year on the blessing of male friendships. It's real and it's important to be a "man in full".
Great writing and great work. The Orthodox have the best cemetery section and mortuary chapel at the local graveyard near where I live. The chapel is in the graveyard and covered in beautiful frescoes, surrounded by a peaceful atmosphere. What a great reverence for the dead. There are two nice icons of Christ and Theotokos that you can see through the window. The Greeks have their own areas, then Serbs, etc. however small.