May 19, 2006

Luke sent me the following email:

Dear friends, i do not like the informality of a form letter on this subject
matter but i hope you will for give me.  I think we should treat our mothers
with more respect and love.  we will never know when they will not be with
us.  My mother of 25 years passed away peacefully last night.  she was found
by my father on the floor in the kitchen.  I will be flying home tomorrow
for a week to take care of my dad and the funeral.  Please call your mothers
and tell them that you love them.  I cant. Do it for me.
I love you all.
She is in paradise now, fulfilling a mission.  That was her fondest dream
was to preach the gospel.  Please keep me and my dad in your prayers.

I feel really sad for him, and wonder about a lot of things about life and things that have to do with life.   It's strange to realize that, unless we choose very carefully, all the things we draw security from are eventually not going to be here.  I wrote a letter from the mission about it, posted on the old sixmilevillage site:

7 – 13 -05

Look at your zipper.

If it says "YKK" on it, I live by the place of your zipper's birth.

This reminds me of the time I stood at the corner of Hollywood and Vine. I thought, "Oh. I'm at the corner of Hollywood and Vine. That's famous or something. I don't know why it's famous. I just know it is. And now I'm here." Then I looked around at the razorwire on top of the fences, and the dirty little chinese restaurant, and the bars on the windows and I thought, "They could have picked a better famous place."

I have a few personally famous places. I mean, I have a few places that are special to me. Some because of who they were shared with, some because I just like them. Some are refuges. Most are inspirational to me. All have good memories attached. I know why they're famous to me. And most are unknown except to a select few. I suspect only Rodney knows where all of my famous places are. And I'm fine with that.

There is a cabin in the mountains where I like to go and pretend to be an artistic or creative kind of person.

There is a crack in the cliffs that allows passage to the top of the mountain.

There is a restaurant with great bread and plenty of ranting space.

There is a road that leads to a place far away from here filled with better radio stations and more movie choices.

There is a coffee shop that does great sandwiches and hot chocolate.

There is a certain log with a branch that would not give in to repeated kickings.

There is a kind of music that makes for better writing.

There is a house where I and my friends have always been welcome.

Well, I've learned something about the nature of the world and of life recently. There is a scripture somewhere that says that all things must fail, (minus one, it goes on to say) and I've started understanding that recently.

Another refuge from the storm is gone. With time and decay, change in health and circumstance, everything must change. There was a place that I relied on for much strength and happiness now gone. Not because the place is gone, but because the person who was there has left.

It leads me to think 2 things. 1: we must always be progressing. Finding new things that are our famous places. Otherwise we will one day run out, and we'll be left thinking "What ever happened to hollywood and vine?" 2: We must always try to find the unfailing refuge.

I didn't know I would talk about all that, but I have, and I aint gonna take it back.

 -Greg

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