Life in Transition

Boxes, tape secured over the seams, line the garage of my parents home, the result of the decision to rent the home we grew up in now that my dad is gone and my mom lives in a private care facility.
As I walk through the yard and the halls of the only home my parents ever owned I can hear the echos of the days long gone. Christmas mornings, waiting for everyone to get up so we can open our presents, evenings at the dinner table where we broke bread as a family, sharing the couch to watch TV together. Laughter, tears, anger, fear, love, hope, and faith all emanate from these walls now painted and ready for a new young family who will love our home as much as we and our parents did.

It took me a week to take the first batch of boxes out of my truck and look inside. The wonderful family moving into our home took great care to box things up and label them based on who the items belonged to or which items had been spoken for. I chose to have all of the items related to my father’s love of flying boxed up for me. Now looking at the near complete model airplane he planned to fly, takes me back to the times when we went along on the days he would gather with his buddies, all with a love of flying, to watch those planes take off, land, and often crash. I had to unload it all, there were more things to transport. The transition was not over.

As my friend and I broke down the concrete table and benches from my parents back yard to load and transport to it’s next home under the great live oak tree in my back yard I couldn’t decide whether to leave the concrete base, that had been poured right there in the yard, behind. I had decided I could create a new base but I took one last look. As I stared down at that perfectly square piece of concrete, I saw the initials JJM and the date 5/2006 scrawled in the concrete. This was my dad's work, the  signature of his labor and his love for my mom. This will live on in my backyard where I will always be reminded of him and how much he means to us.

It seems that after all is said and done, this is how a life transitions. Boxes, wrapped with tape, labeled and divided and distributed. But what I realized in it all, is that the boxes are simply vessels to carry things that represent memories of our loved ones. It is up to us to keep the memories alive, every day. I plan to sit at the really cool concrete table, listen to the birds, and have a coffee with my dad.

Peace - TLP

K + 12 - A Brutal Reminder

On this 12th Anniversary of Hurricane Katrina's devastation of the MS Gulf Coast and New Orleans, we are mourning.    Not for ourselves, but for the people of Texas impacted by Hurricane Harvey.  As we watch the news, we have seen the devastating wind, the unprecedented flood, and the anguish of the people.   Our hearts break for them, just as ours broke after Katrina.    

What we learned in Katrina, and what Texans are already learning, is that as you watch the life you built wash away, you cling to what is left:  Love, Faith and People.  You will be prayed for, wished positive thoughts, and have millions of donations made to support your recovery now and for days, months and years to come.   Strangers will descend upon your communities with only one purpose; to help struggling Texans recover and rebuild.   In the times of your deepest despair you will realize that the most important thing is community and the relationships you have with your friends and family and that in joining together you will be strong.   There is no color, no social status;  just people, recovering  from what will likely be the most devastating event you have ever seen.  While it is hard to see the positive right now, in each day that follows, you will have moments when even the smallest of things bring a smile to your face.  It might be the sun peeking through the clouds, a child's laughter, the gentle touch of a helping hand on your shoulder, but it will come.   You will discover that when the chips are down, you can depend on one another and that, there is love, kindness and caring in every single person.

Hang on Texas.  You are brave and strong beyond measure.  Know that selfless love and kindness is coming your way.  It will continue to help you through the coming days, months and years.  May you find comfort in the thought that those of us over here in Mississippi and Louisiana, know and feel your pain and are with you in spirit, praying for your safety and recovery.

Peace