Forever Young. A warrior's tale

Greetings beloved. Friday morning, April 15th, 2011. Early morning. The Sprinter Train is carrying me to work. As I listen and look at the sights and sounds of of a beautiful southern California day ,my mind is quickly transported back to a phone call from my oldest son Jeff. April 15th, 2007. Early evening. "Come quickly", said Jeff from Val's home in San Marcos.

Four years have gone by since our dear Valerie left us for her true home. And ours.

A day has not passed in the life of her mom and I where she has not entered our thoughts. As it should be.

She was a pilgrim and sojourner in our world. A time traveler who spent too little time with us. But, like us today, this was her world too. She lived. She loved. She laughed. She left us with memories of a life well lived. Like the wake of a great ocean liner, her life still ripples through ours.

There was a poem written by Robert Browning Hamilton;

I walked a mile with Pleasure;
She chatted all the way;
But left me none the wiser
For all she had to say.

I walked a mile with Sorrow,
And ne’er a word said she;
But, oh! The things I learned from her,
When sorrow walked with me.

An Arab proverb, probably says it best, "too much sunshine makes a desert".

I can say with all confidence that the 18 months I spent with Val during her battle were the richest of my life. They re-defined me. They left me so much richer.

And just to add an exclamation mark came January 11th, 2011. As usual, I was out for my routine 6 mile run around El Corazon. Crossing El Camino Real, my mind spaced out and I ran into the path of a Ford truck. Feeling the wind of his side mirror, I kept running, not really sure if I was alive or dead. To be sure someone could still see me in the land of the living, I actually waved at the driver of a big truck coming down the landfill.

I guess I am watching too many movies. The point is, God delivered me that day. The difference between life and death was a fraction of a second. I went home that night and told my wife that I am living on borrowed time. But then, aren't we all?

Recently I was reading to Nancy and Val's sons Gavin, Ryan, and Tyler from John Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress". Christian and Hopeful had arrived in Beaulah Land and were about to cross the river to the Celestial City. After they had crossed and were met by the angels, I explained that they had died.

Both Nancy and the boys wouldn't believe me. They thought I was kidding. It couldn't be possible that the heroes of the book just died. Something was very wrong here.

My message to you is this; live each day with great joy. It is a gift of God to you. Receive it from His loving hands. And at the end of your sojourn in this world, the life of the faithful in Christ begins in God's Kingdom.

Godspeed Beloved