Categories
Our Choices Make Us

Miss You

Have seen countless, amazing sunsets from this Sanibel Island location…

Dear Son, your Grandfather passed away on April 10, 2001, around 1:30am. I was there, along with your Grandmother (my step-Mom), Lonna.

Have never seen a human image look more like Jesus than after your ‘Pap-Paw’ took his final breath. It was Good Friday.

April 8, on the flight up from Orlando to Harrisburg, Pennsylvania the sunset was the most spectacular I’ve ever seen, as if the Heaven’s were opening their gates wide.

Next Blog

By jeff noel

Internet's only five-a-day blogger, leaving a trail for our son. This is about putting the spirit of Love at the center of your life. It may be God, Allah, Mohammed, Buddha, Yahweh, etc. For me, it's Jesus.

4 replies on “Miss You”

Jeff,

Wow – I love how you painted a picture for your son to know an experience that has meant a lot to you. God has a way of putting those images in our minds as a “memory marker.”

Bob

You know Bob, your reaction reminds me how significant it was. It felt “wow” at the time, but how does a person keep that vivid imagery alive 10 years (or more) down the road?

Jeff,

The children of Israel in the Old Testament were reminded to build memorials or “memory markers” and to retell the stories over and over, lest they forget. The Book of Deuteronomy is the most active view of this – Moses is retelling Israel’s story with God to the children of Israel before he is to die and Israel enters the Promise Land. Then, days later, God has Joshua tell Israel to build a memorial of 12 stones (one for each tribe) on the other side of the Jordan River to remind them that God parted the waters to allow them into the Promise Land.

So to answer your question, you are doing it already. Your blog is helping to serve as a way to remember. This has become a place for you to reiterate your memory marker.

Bob

Bob, thanks for your encouragement and for connecting the dots (getting the bigger picture) of why I write.

The fact that this benefits anyone besides our son (and me) was a hope, but not the inspiration for doing it.

Leaving a trail was, and is, the inspiration.

Comments are closed.