We had several pretty beat up sections of lawn as the boys grew up. They served as the pitcher's mound and home plate for Wiffle® Ball home run derbies, or as the bases for pickle games. Time waits for no man and the boys eventually grew up, left for college and began their adult lives. It took quite a few years, but the bare spots in the side yard were slowly reclaimed. It was always a little sad to see the grassy patches and listen to the deafening silence where little boys had grown into men.
That all changed this weekend, though. For the first time in nearly three years, the whole family was together and healthy for a any length of time. It took Joseph and Matthew no time at all to dig through the old toy barrel in the garage to find some old Wiffle® Balls and a bat. They were old and cracked, so they made the trek to Walmart to buy new ones. We also ordered a bag of balls from Amazon for Saturday delivery so they would have enough to play.
The home run derbies began again in earnest; only now it included their wives, too! We spent hours over the five days we were all together creating new, stressed areas in the lawn for the pitcher's mound and home plate. Our yard was, once again, filled with the sounds of the whack of plastic bat on plastic ball and the joyous laughter that went along with it. There were cheers for the hits that went all the way across the street and jeers for the swings and misses or ground balls.
The kids headed off their separate ways yesterday, but the sounds of our little boys at play still echoes in my mind.
Wednesday, August 16, 2017
Monday, May 8, 2017
The Measure Of A Man
If one measured a man only by the number of people who call him friend, then Ron Kilkenny was an amazing man. When measuring by the number of people who call him their best friend, he exceeds measure.
Ron was taken from us far too soon. His sudden and untimely death has left many who called him best friend shaken. Facebook quickly filled with tributes to Ron as word spread of his death; many of the writers telling their story of why Ron was their best friend.
That is a remarkable man, indeed.
I, too, called Ron my best friend for 43 years. He changed my life and his passing will forever leave a hole in my heart.
We met as twelve year olds. Neither of us had a brother, so we became brothers from different mothers. From his consoling me just a few weeks after we met as I mourned the sudden death of my dad, to his loving concern for my son as he fought Lymphoma - twice, Ron was someone who cared. He was never afraid to demonstrate his love for others.
Ron was the first person to ever share the Gospel with me, and his example of Christian love was instrumental in my ultimate decision to commit my life and eternity to Jesus Christ.
We fought plenty through the earlier years; as brothers tend to do. We also got into a fair amount of trouble together. I'm sure his dad would have been horrified if he had known how Ron and I used to wander through the campground convincing people that I was Deaf and used that to garner sympathy - and snacks - from the other campers. Whether it was getting caught jumping off the garage roof or racing our go-karts down the hill on Ranch Drive when we weren't supposed to be out there or playing in the flooded creek, Ron and I were in it together.
Even distance couldn't destroy the special bond we had. Although we weren't able to get together often, it was as if we saw each other every day whenever we were together.
Our talks in recent years changed to talking a lot about our kids. Ron was immensely proud of Andrew, Ellen and Ryan - and for good reason. I could almost hear his chest swelling with pride over the phone as he told me about their lives.
Ron was a man of great character, and will be missed as the best friend of many of us.
Recently, Ron and I began ending our calls or messaging by saying, "I love you," to each other. I don't remember exactly when it started, or who said it first, but it became a regular thing for us.
I wasn't always the friend I should have been, but Ron was always there, ready to forgive and move on. I take some tiny measure of comfort in knowing that he knew I loved him, and I know that he loved me. I take great comfort in knowing that Ron now sits in the presence of his Savior, and that I will see him again.
Ron was taken from us far too soon. His sudden and untimely death has left many who called him best friend shaken. Facebook quickly filled with tributes to Ron as word spread of his death; many of the writers telling their story of why Ron was their best friend.
That is a remarkable man, indeed.
I, too, called Ron my best friend for 43 years. He changed my life and his passing will forever leave a hole in my heart.
We met as twelve year olds. Neither of us had a brother, so we became brothers from different mothers. From his consoling me just a few weeks after we met as I mourned the sudden death of my dad, to his loving concern for my son as he fought Lymphoma - twice, Ron was someone who cared. He was never afraid to demonstrate his love for others.
Ron was the first person to ever share the Gospel with me, and his example of Christian love was instrumental in my ultimate decision to commit my life and eternity to Jesus Christ.
We fought plenty through the earlier years; as brothers tend to do. We also got into a fair amount of trouble together. I'm sure his dad would have been horrified if he had known how Ron and I used to wander through the campground convincing people that I was Deaf and used that to garner sympathy - and snacks - from the other campers. Whether it was getting caught jumping off the garage roof or racing our go-karts down the hill on Ranch Drive when we weren't supposed to be out there or playing in the flooded creek, Ron and I were in it together.
Even distance couldn't destroy the special bond we had. Although we weren't able to get together often, it was as if we saw each other every day whenever we were together.
Our talks in recent years changed to talking a lot about our kids. Ron was immensely proud of Andrew, Ellen and Ryan - and for good reason. I could almost hear his chest swelling with pride over the phone as he told me about their lives.
Ron was a man of great character, and will be missed as the best friend of many of us.
Recently, Ron and I began ending our calls or messaging by saying, "I love you," to each other. I don't remember exactly when it started, or who said it first, but it became a regular thing for us.
I wasn't always the friend I should have been, but Ron was always there, ready to forgive and move on. I take some tiny measure of comfort in knowing that he knew I loved him, and I know that he loved me. I take great comfort in knowing that Ron now sits in the presence of his Savior, and that I will see him again.
Monday, May 1, 2017
Back to a Simpler Time...
Saturday was one of those days that made me think back to a simpler time. Not an easier time or even, necessarily, a happier time.
Just a simpler time.
Diane and I decided to head down to the Gurnee Mills Outlet Mall Saturday. We've been there quite a few times, but not for quite a while. We've always parked by the entrance to the Bass Pro Shop and Diane and Joseph or, in later years, Diane would head out into the mall while Matthew and I perused Bass Pro Shop's offerings. We were diligent about meticulously going through the boating, marine, fishing, fly shop, guns, hunting, knife and camping departments. We'd spend hours talking about the goodies we saw - and wishing we could buy them all.
This time was different, though. Joseph and Anna live in Florida and Matthew and Shelley live in Pennsylvania. This time, it was just Diane and me.
Diane wanted to look through Bass Pro's clothing department, so I wandered off to my normal routine only, this time, it wasn't normal at all. I constantly caught myself looking at some new (or old) thing and thinking, "Matthew would love this," or, "Matthew would get a kick out of this," or, "Matthew would laugh at this."
Diane and I wandered around the mall a bit after she finished checking out at Bass Pro. I found myself looking at the sports memorabilia stores and thinking how much Joseph would have enjoyed poking around in there as a boy.
It was all kind of hard, and it made me think back to those simpler times.
Those times before Cancer.
Those times before the boys were called to other parts of the country.
Those times before...
I'm not saying I want to go back to those times; although, it would be great if we could skip over the Cancer parts. But going back would also mean we would miss some of the most wonderful times of our lives...
Times like college graduations.
Times like getting to know the wonderful young ladies God brought into the boys' lives.
Times like their weddings.
Times when we laughed and times when we cried.
It's just all part of life moving on. I suppose I tend to look back through rose-colored glasses.
Maybe those days weren't really simpler at all, just different.
Just a simpler time.
Diane and I decided to head down to the Gurnee Mills Outlet Mall Saturday. We've been there quite a few times, but not for quite a while. We've always parked by the entrance to the Bass Pro Shop and Diane and Joseph or, in later years, Diane would head out into the mall while Matthew and I perused Bass Pro Shop's offerings. We were diligent about meticulously going through the boating, marine, fishing, fly shop, guns, hunting, knife and camping departments. We'd spend hours talking about the goodies we saw - and wishing we could buy them all.
This time was different, though. Joseph and Anna live in Florida and Matthew and Shelley live in Pennsylvania. This time, it was just Diane and me.
Diane wanted to look through Bass Pro's clothing department, so I wandered off to my normal routine only, this time, it wasn't normal at all. I constantly caught myself looking at some new (or old) thing and thinking, "Matthew would love this," or, "Matthew would get a kick out of this," or, "Matthew would laugh at this."
Diane and I wandered around the mall a bit after she finished checking out at Bass Pro. I found myself looking at the sports memorabilia stores and thinking how much Joseph would have enjoyed poking around in there as a boy.
It was all kind of hard, and it made me think back to those simpler times.
Those times before Cancer.
Those times before the boys were called to other parts of the country.
Those times before...
I'm not saying I want to go back to those times; although, it would be great if we could skip over the Cancer parts. But going back would also mean we would miss some of the most wonderful times of our lives...
Times like college graduations.
Times like getting to know the wonderful young ladies God brought into the boys' lives.
Times like their weddings.
Times when we laughed and times when we cried.
It's just all part of life moving on. I suppose I tend to look back through rose-colored glasses.
Maybe those days weren't really simpler at all, just different.
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