Hope in Tragedy – Poetry for Reflection

In my dogged determination to remain positive I have allowed three weeks minus one day to elapse since the tragic loss of my youngest son. During this time Rhonda and I went on a historic tour of Virginia and Washington, D.C. and I met with my cousin, Steve, for a jaunt into Manhattan.

Before the trip, while waiting for my daughters to arrive from Ohio, I wrote the following poem:

HOPE

It’s not the best and not the worst

But wavering in between.

Crayola candles blue and yellow

Melting into green.

The wick is flickering in a lamp;

A beam drifts through the fog.

Then plunging onward into darkness

Daggers pierce the bog.

Soft raindrops splash into a keg

Beneath a mangled oak

Then bravely peeping through a cloud

Faint light the fetters broke.

This verse will be in my forthcoming poetry book, I Walked my Dog This Morning. More on the trip later.

 

 

Loss of a friend

For a number of years I held the position of Regional Marketing Director of the Final Expense Division for a large Salt Lake City company called Security National Financial Corporation. The Quist family, owners of this fine conglomerate, were wonderful folks to work with and I considered them dear friends. With them I managed in six states and traveled for meetings and conventions around the US and to several other countries.

My good friend, Nate Wolf, who was the VP immediately over me, and remains a close friend, called me yesterday and informed me of the passing of the patriarch of the Quist Family, George. He was almost 93, so he had lived a long and useful life. He will be greatly missed.

When a loved one passes

When a loved one passes away our hearts are flooded with ambivolent emotions. First is sadness and grief, then sometimes the question, why? But those of us who have faith in the next life are comforted by feelings of hope in seeing him or her again. Often we join our family and friends in remembering and celebrating the loves one’s life and accomplishments.

I learned yesterday that a dear first cousin, Melissa Vinson Crain, had escaped the bondage and troubles of this life due to a troubling battle with cancer. I am saddened to know that I will not hear from her again this side of the next life, but my faith tells me that I will see her again. This is the hope that we have, for which I am eternally  grateful.