DaddyRoBlog

Seldom Simple

Yesterday at church we had a baccalaureate service for our high school and college graduates followed by a a very nice dinner.   I was pleased when it was suggested that my older daughter speak at the service, and that she was able to do it.    I appreciated the way she honored the complexity of life; so often we want things to be either/or when they are both/and. 

We want things to be either happy or sad, but the reality is that often the biggest events in our life are both.  People want a funeral to be a joyful celebration of a loved one's life, but how can it be such without also acknowledge the sadness that comes in missing them?  We get a promotion, and it is good, but it also involves more responsibility and longer hours.  That means less time with our family and friends, and that sets off a whole host of difficult dynamics.  Life is seldom simple.

But Iv'e said enough.  I'll let my daughter speak for herself.

... I’ve got so many things I’d love to say to you all, but I’ll try not to talk your ears off. But I will, however, share with you a few thoughts about graduating, and new beginnings, and transitions, and change.

First of all, I want to acknowledge the other side of that word being flung at you from all sides, “congratulations!”—the bittersweet side. When I graduated from college last year I felt like I was being surrounded on all sides by people shaking my hand and talking about how grown up I was and how I’d go on to do great things, and saying, “You’ve done it!” “You’ve done it!” “Now you’re a grown-up and you can move on to new and greater things, to real life!”

And everyone was so happy and excited, but inside, honestly, all I could think was—“And I’m supposed to be excited about this? I have spent the last four years of my life investing in this place, these people, in relationships and work and academics and libraries and parks and community, I have spent the last four years of my life putting down roots, deep roots meaningful roots, and now they’re all being ripped out from under me—and I’m supposed to feel excited about this?”

Friends—you have done marvelous things, to get to where you are today. Not the least of these marvelous things is saying goodbye to the goodness of the place where you became the person who you are now, and recognizing that all good things must come to an end.

And trust me—there are good things, wonderful things, in store for each and every one of you. Who is to say that they will be better, or worse? They won’t be either—they will simply be different, but they will be good. I promise. But, that being said—do not be afraid to grieve. These are exciting times, glorious times full of opportunity and newness, but they are also sad times, too.

Do not be afraid to let the hurtful things hurt.

Beast

Thanks to Darrell Breed for sending me a link to a story about a world record snakehead that was recently caught in a tributary of the Potomac River.  As you probably know, snakehead are an invasive species that wreak havoc on natural fish populations.  But apparently, they fight well, taste good, and are downright ugly which makes them cool to catch in a beastly way--sort of an anti-trout, if you will.

The pending world record snakehead was  4 feet long and weighed 18 pounds.  I can't beat the weight, but I think I can outdo the length with a snakehead of my own.  Only this one isn't a fish, and it has the rest of the body attached.  In the pic below, you can see it went a good five to six feet long.  Of course, it was released unharmed.

Four Stars in Four Minutes

Yesterday's picture was from the funeral for General Louis "Ted" Seith at Arlington National Cemetery.  One of the most impressive things of all about that service was the eulogy.  It was just over 4 minutes long (though I presided at the service, I did not give the eulogy).   His life said what needed to be said, and he trusted that if you knew him you already knew what kind of man he was.  I thought that said more about him than words ever could.

We Remember

Over the years I have been privileged to hear the stories of many  men and women who have served our country.  In hearing them, I am always reminded what a precious thing honor is.  Honor is not proven when life is easy or going well, but when it is not.  It is proven when staying true to what we believe costs us something, and when the cost is dear.

Thank God for people of honor.   To honor them in turn is not just to remember these men and women, as important as that is, but to be more like them. 

Sorry to Be Crying

I did a funeral today.  As if often the case at funerals, a person was crying as we spoke before the service.  "Sorry," she said.

"No need to be sorry," I replied.  "This is an appropriate time to cry if there ever was one."

And then that got me thinking.    In my experience, it's pretty rare for people to cry at inappropriate times.   Most people don't cry unless they have good reason.  But they almost always say, "I'm sorry."

I wonder what it is that we are sorry about when we say this.  Not being in control?  Showing emotion?  Making others feel uncomfortable?

There are so many things in life to be genuinely sorry for, but I do not think tears are one of them.

How Does Your Garden Grow?

The summer heat arrives in force today, and with it humidity as well.  Combined with last week's generous rains, you can almost see the garden growing.  And that, of course, means more and more flowers every day, and even some tomatoes setting fruit.

The flower above is another dahlia.  A tuber from last year, I'm not sure what it is... other than pretty!

Being Human

It's part of the basic human condition to doubt, I think.  Take getting on an airplane; for most people, there is always the question, however big or small, nagging at the back of their mind:  Is this thing really safe?   Of course, doubt isn't the same thing as not believing.  We still get on the plane, and most  will enjoy the flight.

But if it is our condition to doubt, it is also our condition to marvel.  I still stop and look when a big plane flies overhead.    I still find myself filled with wonder that it can fly.   The rumble of the engines, the speed at which it moves,  that such a massive machine can actually take to the skies--all these things fill my heart with awe.

Doubt and awe.  In one respect, we can consider these the two poles of our existence, the one being made all the sweeter by the other.  Though we can scarcely believe it, there is the truth of the matter, right there, before our very eyes.

In The Garden

First Verrone's Obsidian bloom of the season.  A dahlia, this really is a spectacular flower.

Babies are in the nursery!  Yertle's eggs have hatched (they were actually laid last week).

And Sasha, ever the good cat, dutifully guards the newly planted Italian White Sunflowers.  This is indeed helpful, as the chipmunks love to dig in the freshly turned earth...

Deeply Flawed in My Assumptions

 

One of the great things that Linda and I have found about living with animals is that they so often make us laugh.    But they also frequently turn out to be some of our best teachers as well.

Take Yertle, our venerable frog who you have no doubt come to know well on this blog.  Yertel started on a lily pad, and then moved higher to perch on top of a rock.  But that was not enough for him; in true Yertle fashion, he soon moved higher still, climbing to the top of one of our tubs of water.  I am not even sure how he did this, but he did.

Notice the assumptions; that Yertle is male, and that this is some form of dominance behavior as Yertle looked for the best spot to catch sun, find food, and evade enemies.  Those assumptions turned out to be incorrect.  As you can see from the picture below, Yertle is a woman, and her behavior was driven by finding the best place to lay her eggs (all those little dots in the foreground are frog eggs, and that's Yertle resting in the background). 

That's the things about assumptions, isn't?  They are so often wrong.  They lead us to misjudge.  Sorry, Yertle! 

Jesus Was Here

This made me laugh.  Courtesy of John Murphy--thanks, John!