Choosing How We Are Remembered . . .

I just got off the phone with my father. Apparently my ex-step-Grandfather passed away this morning, and though I don't know all the details, I understand he died in the hospital after suffering a stroke. I doubt anyone was with him when he went to meet his maker, because honestly I don't know of many people who even liked the man, not even his own children. He was cruel to my Grandmother, who finally divorced him at the ripe old age of 89. She'd had enough. She married him to ward off loneliness after my Grandfather passed away when I was a Junior in high school. The family was there as much as possible to keep her company, but we all had families of our own and lives to lead, and couldn't always be there all the time, so she married this man with two or three ex-wives, determined to be the one to understood this "poor misunderstood man". Flash forward all these years later, Grandma has a new life of her own and C is gone. And that really got me to thinking . . .

When it is my time to go, how will I be remembered? Will anyone regret my passing, or will they say that I was a miserable person who won't be missed? What is the impact I am having on others now while I'm alive? In my own mind I'd like to think that I'm having a positive effect on others as my life touches theirs, whether that touch is in passing or long term. I'd like to think that when others meet me they can see that I have compassion for their hurts, genuine caring for their heartbreaks, and true joy for their successes. As selfish as it sounds, when I die I want to leave a void behind me, where my life will have meant something and being gone is noticed and mourned by the people left here. If God allows us to look down from heaven to check in on those we love, I'd like to see that the lessons I taught to my kids are carrying forward to their children, that a smile of nostalgia crosses the faces of friends as they remember something we did together. When holidays roll around I want my family to throw themselves into them with all of their hearts, having fun, carrying on cherished traditions, and remembering with happiness the past celebrations we shared together.

The thought of this man dying alone is very sad. No, I won't lie and say I'll miss him, or elevate him to something he wasn't and state that he was a great person, because if I'm honest and speak what is in my heart, he won't be missed by me, and he wasn't a nice person. I don't know where he is right now, and who's gate he was knocking on this morning when he went to meet his eternity. That would be something known only to God at this point. I can hope for his sake, that in his last moments he had the opportunity to have a little chat with God and make things right, and someday I'll find out whether or not this was so. It definitely makes me think though, puts my attitude into perspective and hopefully that will be something I carry with me for a good long time to come.

What kind of a memory are you leaving behind? What kind of memories are any of us leaving behind? I know what kind I'd like to leave . . .

Never Forget . . .

9/11. The mere mention of that date brings a hush and sense of overwhelming sadness to the soul of every red-blooded American. We can all recall the precise moment when we heard what had happened on that horrible day in New York, right here on our home soil, to hard working men and women, to a city, a nation, the world. It was the day when we were stripped of what innocence remained, naked and without the sense of being protected by the very strength of the borders within which we live. It was the day that we realized that we too are vulnerable to the evil that pervades the world and we are no longer insulated from that evil. We can no longer count on the safety that we have taken for granted for so long.

On that day we came together as a country, of one mind . . . one heart . . . one goal. We bonded together, across this nation, every walk of life, every religion, every ethnicity, every political affiliation . . . we united to rebuild, to heal, and to NEVER be victims of such senseless violence again. In the few short years since that day, though it seems as if it were just yesterday, we have deteriorated back to a nation of back biting, fighting, clashing and finger pointing. How quickly the memories of such devastation fade for those who have limited capacity to love our country for what She is, what She has been, and what She could potentially still be. How quickly the selfishness, hypocrisy, hatred and plotting one against another fall back into the old routine, as if the pain and horror of that fateful day never happened.

To those who would push our country down the path of destruction through stupid policies, through quest for power, through greed for more of what our neighbor may have, SHAME ON YOU! To those who walk on the graves of men, women and children who died that horrible day, remember that judgement day is pending for those who still walk this plane, and God is the ultimate judge. While you are busily pushing Him out of our schools, out of our public places, out of the government which was built in His name, and out of the holidays we celebrate in His honor - He is recording your actions, your thoughts, your words and the day is coming when you must relive them . . . through His eyes. At that point it will too late to wish He have mercy on your soul. None are free of sin, but some seem to perpetrate it on purpose and with glee and malice for the innocent, the honorable, the devout.

Please, take a moment to pray for the families and friends of those who perished on 9/11. Pray for the those who so valiantly worked to save as many as they could. Pray for the men and women who have served, and still serve, in our military, striving to protect our nation against such heinous violent acts from happening again. Pray for the families of those who serve. Pray for our country, for the preservation of the constitution on which we have built our very existence.

Don't ever forget . . . It is your duty as a human being, as an American. . . Honor this day and always remember.