Leader of the Band

In America we celebrate things such as Independence Day, Memorial Day, Mother’s Day, and many more. This Sunday we will be celebrating Father’s Day. It is a time of family gatherings, visiting parents and grandparents or simply doing something nice for dad.

I have thought quite a bit about this year’s Father’s Day, probably due to the fact that Cheryl lost her father in January, and a brother (who is a dad) last year. I lost my Father thirty-three years ago, yet I still miss him. Also, friends of ours just lost their dad to cancer. So, it really doesn’t surprise me that this particular Father’s Day has impacted me. I was going to write a tribute to fathers, but recalled a song which has always resonated with me. I hope it does for you, as well. The lyrics are below, but I also encourage you to listen to this song via YouTube or other audio/visual website; it is soothing and thought provoking.

The singer/songwriter is Dan Fogelberg. He wrote and recorded this song in 1981 as a tribute to his father who died the following year. I dedicate this song to all good fathers- alive, fallen or off to war. And for the many souls who have never known a father or who may have had one who was mean-spirited or only there in form, uninvolved. Bless you, and may you find someone who will be a father to you. And most importantly, we have a loving Father above. Look to Him.

Leader of the Band

An only child, alone and wild, a cabinet maker’s son, his hands were meant for different work and his heart was known to none. He left his home and went his lone and solitary way, and he gave to me a gift I know I never can repay.

A quite man of music, denied a simpler fate, he tried to be a soldier once but his music wouldn’t wait. He earned his love through discipline, a thund’ring, velvet hand. His gentle means of sculpting souls took me years to understand.

The leader of the band is tired and his eyes are growing old, but blood runs through my instrument and his song is in my soul. My life has been a poor attempt to imitate the man. I’m just a living legacy to the leader of the band.

My brother’s lives were different, for they heard another call. One went to Chicago and the other to Saint Paul. And I’m in Colorado, when not in some hotel, living out this life I’ve chosen, come to know so well.

I thank you for the music and your stories of the road. I thank you for the freedom when it came my time to go. I thank you for the kindness and the times when you got tough. And, papa, I don’t think I said “I love you” near enough.

The leader of the band is tired and his eyes are growing old, but his blood runs through my instrument and his song is in my soul. My life has been a poor attempt to imitate the man. I’m just a living legacy to the leader of the band…I am the living legacy to the leader of the band.

 

Sheen

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If I were to ask what this image is you are viewing, some of you will get it right away and some will be left wondering (or at least guessing).

Spontaneous and opportunistic are how I would describe my style of photography and prose. In this case I used my cell phone camera because that is all I had available for the moment to snap this photograph.

This image is 100% natural, and laid next to me on the couch early this morning as the sun began to shine brilliantly through an east window in our living room. The sunlight which created a wonderful sheen in the center and faint shadows at the edges captured my attention. Of course, the waves are like a surfer’s paradise and can’t be overlooked.

I share this for the sheer pleasure of doing so. This image is of Carson’s side as the sun illuminated his silky fur. Not all Westie’s are silky, but he certainly is. Carson is a bit unusual in that he likes humans a lot, but doesn’t want to be caressed too much. He is his own dog, so-to-speak. So, when an opportunity comes along, like this morning’s, where he wanted to rest next to me, I looked upon him with admiration and affection.

What is it about our beloved pets that creates such a bond? Those who have and enjoy their pets know that answer… for it lies in the heart.

 

 

Paradox ?

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I must admit from the start that this is an unusual post for me. True, I have submitted several posts about Carson over the past two years, but today is different. Obviously, I am (Cheryl is, too) crazy about this canine. At the same time he is a great source of occasional irritation…love him anyway.

The Paradox for which I titled this post may not be so much a paradox, but a simple reality.

We adopted Carson after he was a breeder dog in a puppy mill in Nebraska. There are these wonderful people who keep distressed dogs until they find a new owner. And, there are organizations which give folks like us the opportunity to see such dogs who need a home. In our case it is called Little White Rescue (we were interviewed before acceptance to bringing Carson home). So it should be.

We were told he was about three or so years old, but time has shown us that he was more likely six years old. Today, Carson is close to ten years…not a big deal for most dogs. However, he is 95% deaf, is developing cataracts so he cannot see that well, and has a terrible hacking cough as a result of an attack by a pit bull several years earlier. His trachea is collapsing so he has to take steroids more often than we like.

Now, for what I entitled as a paradox may simply be a matter of the circle of life, so-to-speak. Our two grandchildren are spending the night with us! Elliot is almost three and half years and Audrie seventeen months young. How fun, is right! I might add, exhausting, too. They are pure joy.

So, I walked today with an aging pupdog (as I call him) who may not be around much longer, and will engage with two very special children for the next twenty-four hours or so. The wonderful thing is that Carson has accepted the kiddos while they have learned to like and interact with a mammal of a different species. They really seem to like him. To watch their encounters together is priceless.

Well, there it is…my paradox of sorts (but not really). I simply love them all and want them to remain with us forever. We have had other animals we wish the same for, as well.

I am comforted by the words I read in my Bible which go like this, ” The wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the young goat, and the calf and the lion and the fattened calf together; and a little child shall lead them.” Isaiah 11:6.

So, I am encouraged that there shall be a reunion in Heaven with man and his beloved animals. This is not meant to be a theology lesson, but a point of hope for future blessings to abound. Thank you for reading and contemplating that which may be.

If A Picture

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If a picture could paint a thousand words, then why can’t I paint you?

The words will never show the you I’ve come to know.

If a face could launch a thousand ships, then where am I to go?

There’s no one home but you, your all that’s left me to.

And when my love is running dry, you come and pour yourself on me.

If a man could be two places at one time, I’d be with you.

Tomorrow and today, beside you all the way.

If the world should stop revolving spinning slowly down to die, I’d spend the end with you.

And when the world was through, then one by one the stars would all go out, then you and I would simply fly away….

Song by Bread, 1971.

 

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Double Vision

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When this double vision ends and I see clearly again, will I be any better off and make sense of life? 

When I feel that my existence seems like that of a spectator, will I ever become a participant?

When the cold of winter and loneliness of the holidays overwhelm me, will I cry myself to sleep?

When faith flickers like a dying candle, what will become of me? Will I have mattered to anyone?

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I will be better off, and so will others, once I regain clarity, and I will understand my life’s purpose.

I am already a participant, I just need a little encouragement to help me understand this truth.

I will cry no longer-even though I needed to for a moment-because joy is just around the corner.

I will light another candle-thus keeping my faith-for my life matters very much. It matters to those who love me and to those who are yet to know me; to the lost who need me and to those who have helped me; to the sojourner who has double vision and to the blind who can’t see at all. No more tears, no more despair, and no more loneliness for there is One who loves me just as I am. Prince of Peace come join me now and help me to show others the way. 

 

 

 

Tis’ the Season…a Prayer

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I believe most people, regardless of religious affiliation, want to live in peace. This is preciously why Jesus came to earth. The angels announced when He was born, “Peace on Earth and good will towards men” (women, too). Why there is so much division among various peoples of the earth can be easily explained. Man is inherently selfish and prideful, and wants his own way regardless of who is afflicted or abused. In fact it is those whom Jesus focused on the most-the downtrodden and forsaken.

I sincerely want everyone who reads this post to know that I pass no judgement because of one’s beliefs (or lack of beliefs). And, I am very, very grateful for those who follow my blog and for those who stumble upon it. I find it gratifying to know that even one person finds either what I have to say or the the photographs I take to be of enough importance to stop for a moment and sneak a peak at one of my posts. I certainly enjoy some of my fellow bloggers’ words and pics, and am especially grateful for the regulars who visit me. As always, I welcome your comments. Now, for my prayer.

Please Lord, let there be peace upon the earth, and let it begin with me.                                                                                         

 

 

D A D

Funny thing, dad is one of few words when spelled backwards is still spelled the same. One can invert the word: start it from back to front or down to up and vice versa. Not sure why I started this post that way, except to lighten how I feel.

Dad, we miss you; your daughter and I. Cheryl, too. You left us too long ago…so, so long ago. Yet, our memories of you are alive and your blood pulses in our veins. We bare your name, and your imprint is stamped on our hearts acknowledging we are your possession.

Valerie reminded me that today commemorates the anniversary of your passing. Your grandchildren were so little then. How you loved them. And, how they would have benefitted from your presence in their lives for years to come. But, that was not to be.

We were fortunate, though. Too many don’t know their dads or are mistreated by them. Fond memories for these are far and few between-if ever. So, in that respect, we are rich to have know such a grand gentleman as yourself. Perfect-far from it, but we can take solace in that we bare the same imperfections as you. We also carry within us some of the more grand characteristics of lives lived with a sense of integrity.

To dwell on the sorrow is okay for a moment, but our lives move on. Everyone knows this truth, but it is sometimes difficult to accept. So, I conclude this more serious than usual post by simply saying this. I honestly hope that when it is my time to vacate this mortal body, my loved ones will know the same love I have for them as you gave to us.

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Stained glass from the chapel where dad’s last tribute was made by his family & many friends.