A couple weeks ago an Uncle of mine died. Not unusual anymore. I'm gettin older, they're changing worlds. I sent flowers. I also sent a eulogy I wrote. I faxed it to the pastor. One of the Great Grandchildren read it.
I got a call yesterday from my cousin (His daughter). She expressed appreciation. Her comment was, that was really touching, you should be a writer. Without thinking I said, I am a writer. Which brought me to think, what is a writer? I have come to the conclusion: A writer is one who writes. There are good and bad writers. But if you consistently write you hone your art and become a writer. When I started this blog a couple years ago I was counseled by a veteran blogger to write every day. She gave me several other tips. I am thankful.
I am also thankful that somehow God gave me the gift of written gab. I appreciate the ability to create and transmit thoughts and ideas. I'm thankful that others appreciate it. I am always happy to be able to give a gift of thoughtful writing when I can. I'm thankful to those of you who read this blog and comment from time to time and who tolerate my writing, sometimes even appreciating. I'll take a chance. Thanks to regular readers, Karma, Jack, Doug, Steve, Sue, Adam, Keith, Scott, Dixie, Ruth, Jim, Todd, Barry, Rick, Dan, Curt, Ken, and probably a dozen or more I missed. I will try hard to not write without thinking of you, what you have to endure and not being too insulting. That is difficult sometimes. I'm so irascible.
One note on the Eulogy below, Uncle Robby lived in Carpenters Home in Lakeland Fl. Carl Straders church. Now being used by Church Without Walls Randy and Paula White. Rodney Howard Browne lives near there. He operated out of this church for many years. Carl is a friend of mine tacitly. I got to know him in Fargo at a men's retreat. We spent a good deal of time during which he shared his vision for Carpenters Home with me.
Isn't it funny how what goes around comes around. Uncle Robby lived and died in Carpenters Home.
You never know what an investment of money in a vision will pay in fruit later on.
April 25, 2006
Reflections on the life of my Uncle Robert (Bob) Redlin
He was my father'’s brother. That counts for a lot. But he was also my friend in many ways. If an uncle can also be a friend he was.
He was faithful to write when he could. He sent me clippings often of events taking place at a church we both were aware of. An Assembly of God Church Carpenters Church Lakeland Florida.
I tried to respond in kind. He always made the effort to stay in touch. I appreciate that about him.
I recall as a kid, family reunions at his farm north of Watertown with the big silo in the yard. Baseball games. Bob and his brothers loved baseball. Those of us not "of age"” would be allowed to bat. He umped. I was terrible. I would get several more than I deserved strikes because of alleged "“ticks"” that only he heard. I suspected he was giving me a break.
Sometimes I visited one of my favorite cousins, Bob Jr in Watertown. We managed to get into trouble enough but Uncle Bob (Robby we called him) would scold and then forgive.
Gathering for his 90th birthday last fall in Wisconsin was the last time I saw him. It was a warm and wonderful day. I will treasure that always. Memories are great. The reality of it all was better.
So to a man who loved his family, his politics, and his Jesus, I say goodbye.
Maybe better said, see you soon. There are so many more goodbyes than hellos these days. That'’s why I treasure the hellos so much.
My condolences to my cousins Bob and Roberta and my congratulations to Uncle Robby for a life well lived. Jesus, would you give him an extra strike? I heard a tick, didn'’t you?
No comments:
Post a Comment