Saint Patrick's Day DNA

My great grandfather, Henry Baun, married Sarah Adaline Thompson in 1864;   Sarah was from Aghalee Antrim Ireland, a village in Northern Ireland. One summer we traveled to Ireland arriving as the cold winds ushered in dusk.  I stood on the cliffs of Blacksod Bay and watched the waves lick the rocky shoreline and slowly a warmth wrapped around my soul.  It was like I’d come home.  Sarah had died in Punxsutawney, PA in 1931, but the deep connection I felt with the cold wind, endless fields of green and gray mist, I had no doubt I’d brought Sarah home.  Last night, as I rode my scooter past the Saint Patrick’s Day celebrations in our little village, I could feel Sarah smile, today be more open to your ancestry DNA. 

Visits from Great Grandparents

I woke up last night and had an imagined conversation with my 3 year old grandson about his great grandparents.  “Your great grandmother was shorter and smaller than anyone else in the family, and her hair was like white fluffy clouds, she taught kindergarten, and loved poetry.  Your great grandfather had one of those smiles that made everyone else smile.  He worked around food all his life, running restaurants, warehouses, and the church kitchen.  When can they come over and play?  When you get a little older they’ll visit and tell you stories about when granddad was a little boy, just like I tell you about your dad.”  It’s the way love works through a spiritual presence that’s so very real. 

Memorable Conversations

Memorable conversations that we replay in our heads sometimes aren’t about what was said, but are about what wasn’t said.  It was an early morning goodbye, and after a short wave I watched the car grow smaller on my horizon.  I started running to catch one last glimpse, and felt the morning dew on my face turn to tears as the car disappeared.  Tears distorting an image in my mind’s eye, a keepsake painted on my soul forever.  Memorable conversations are never lost, just left behind, and not forgot.  Today make a memorable conversation. 

Love

My mother was always dying of cancer.  Mrs. Kirby’s family was two houses down, and she was like my 2^nd mom.  Her two boys were older and we didn’t have much in common, but she was so loving and caring, and helped me feel whole.  One trip back to Baton Rouge, when my kids were in middle school, I took them to Mrs. Kirby’s house.  I hadn’t seen her for many years, and there was an old woman in her front yard working on the azalea bushes.  She turned, smiled, and rushed over giving me a bear hug, “Billy!”  I introduced my wife and kids, as she hugged everyone, and her love was back, but then I realized it had never really left.  Today be grateful for love that’s shared and never lost.

Hospice Experience 90's

His only family was a sister that lived in Florida.  I was working as a hospice volunteer and he’d been on my case load for about a year.  Most days, he’d sit under the carport of the senior home on a metal bench with his walker, and bible, waiting till an orderly would gently bring him inside for meals.  One of my last visits before he was confined to his bed, I pulled up in my Miata convertible, and said, “Carl how’d you like to go for a ride?” We strapped his walker on the back, and I had the honor of giving him the last car ride of his life, with his bible and huge smile.  Be mindful today of shared moments. 

Michael Murphy Wildfire

We all have songs that touch us deeply because of their almost spiritual connections with moments in our lives. After a few years of an Army Europe tour I interviewed for the 10th Special Forces and was accepted, but my brigade commander would not release me. I was ticked, and gave up my active duty status in 74’. Life had been planned around an Army career and now I wasn’t sure where life was going. Michael Murphy released Wildfire in 75’ and it spoke to me about escaping the unsettled feelings of lost life dreams. “On Wildfire we’re gonna ride / Gonna leave sodbustin’ behind / Get these hard times right on out of our minds / Riding Wildfire. It still speaks to me today – getting hard times right out of my mind…

NYC Moment

She had an ingenuous smile; she took my outstretched hand and held it gently in both her hands as she told me about the years she’d spent with her dad in and out of MD Anderson.  MD Anderson gave her wonderful memories of car trips to Houston and extra time with her dad as he fought cancer.  She smiled, thanked me one more time and gave me a warm hug.  My trip to NYC and speaking at the Harvard Club was filled with wondrous moments, but her words gave me the most joy.  This morning as I sorted through the pictures I’d taken on the trip, I found this shot with the meandering river and my superimposed watch, and her story spilled over me again.  Take time today for joy with others!