White Shores

My Uncle Henry died unexpectedly.  A heart attack.  He was too young, only 54.  On the 18th, Mom, Dad, Lane and I made a day trip up to Snowflake for the service.  It was beautiful.  It was sad.  Those words seem so shallow to use when you're standing there, watching his grieving sons (who are my age and younger) bury their father.  What words can you use?  What can you say?

I saw many of my cousins.  Some I haven't seen in years.  It felt good to see them.

Lance, Glenn, Georgie, Cory, Annell, me (missing...lots)

My parents saw many old friends and distant cousins, people I remember from my childhood.  People I now stand shoulder to shoulder with, instead of the way I remember, looking up into their faces. 

Uncle Glen, Aunt Tony, Mom, Uncle Rance (missing is Aunt Teddy and Uncle Pride)

I am so intrigued by the mind.  The power of the mind.  I've told you this before.  Because, as I was standing there, watching my uncle be buried, silently, tearfully observing the people around me, a familiar song was played.  And my mind was brought back to my Papa and the day we buried him 20 years ago.  Instantly, memories, thoughts and feelings from so long ago, surfaced.  I had forgotten how much I missed my Papa.  I could smell the orange trees in Mesa, the warm breeze blowing through the cemetery.  My cousins and I, so little then, crying, arm in arm.  My mom being strong for my Grandma.  It was so real again. 

And I wept.  I wept for my Uncle Henry and the family he was leaving behind.  I wept for my Aunt Tony, because she's too young to be a widow.  I cried for my cousin Crockett; we were close when we were kids and I suddenly missed him as he stood there grieving for his dad.  I cried for the way things were 20 years ago.  I missed all my cousins so much; Billy, Tres, Davy.  And I wanted them there standing next to me.  I cried for my brother Tyrrell.  Because I missed him too.

 I cried for time.  Because there just isn't enough of it, and it passes, and we get older, and things change. The people you loved as a child are practically strangers, living their own lives, as you live yours.  Because you see, after Papa died, the family didn't get together any more.  Not like we used to.  Things changed, and life happened.  So I cried for my sister.  Because I know half the time our immediate family gets together, its because of her.  She keeps this invisible string tied to all of us and keeps us close.  I'm so grateful to her for that. 

I am so grateful to my Heavenly Father and this life he has given me.  And the people whose paths have weaved in and out of my own.  Life truly is a gift; and time is a treasure to spend as we please.  On this day, I wished so much I had spend a few moments differently, chasing and holding onto those childhood relationships.

Crockett and I