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Hope’s Daughters. R. Wayne Willis
Читать онлайн.Название Hope’s Daughters
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781630874025
Автор произведения R. Wayne Willis
Жанр Религия: прочее
Издательство Ingram
March 26
Once upon a time there was an old sea captain who for decades sailed his vessel flawlessly, earning the devotion and admiration of all his crew. The venerable captain had one peculiarity. Every day before sailing he went to his cabin for a few moments alone. The crew thought perhaps he was saying prayers for himself and his men. Whatever he was doing, they assumed it was the key to his sailing prowess.
One day a crew member followed him on his morning routine and watched through the keyhole. He saw the captain go to a locked box, unlock it, take out a scrap of paper, read it, return it to the box, and lock it in. After that ritual he left the cabin with a smile on his face and confidently sailed another day.
When the old captain died, the crew could not wait to get to that locked box and see what was on the paper. After they reverently buried him at sea, they reverently tiptoed down to his cabin, unlocked the door, unlocked the box, opened it, and unfolded the creased, yellowed paper, which read: “The right side is the starboard side.”
We need regularly to peek outside our rut and ask the really big one: “What is this thing called life all about? Where is it going? Am I being true to myself? Am I on course, or has my vessel run aground?”
“Now and then we all need to take our mind out and dance on it,” Mark Twain wrote, “because it’s getting all caked up.”
For those of the Judeo-Christian tradition, the right side—whether the Republicans, the Democrats, or the Independents are in—is incontrovertible. Micah’s sentence in scripture sums up what the right side is: “See that justice is done, let mercy be your first concern, and humbly obey your God.”80
March 27
Last night I had the strangest dream. I dreamt I had one day to live. I awoke from the dream to plan my final day.
Morning breaks with a large glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice, chased with a bowl of muselix and strawberry yogurt, the way they mix them in Switzerland.
For weather, I enjoy a bright blue sky with a few white puffy clouds and a constant temperature of seventy-six degrees. After breakfast my wife and I take a walk in the woods reminiscing about the night we met in 1966 and the night in 1968 she accepted my proposal.
We come back to the house and lie out in lounge chairs, absorbing some rays. I have missed the feel of sun on my skin ever since 1977 when I had the first of many surgeries for sun-caused skin cancers.
Our three sons and their families come over in the afternoon. I ask the boys to come prepared to share one favorite memory of me. Then we throw a football around, the way we used to do when we were young. Our last meal together is a picnic that includes a few of my favorite things—ripe watermelon, honey-roasted peanuts, a pimento cheese sandwich with tomato and pickle on it, and dark chocolate with almonds.
As the sun begins to set we listen to Louie Armstrong sing, “What a Wonderful World,” watch Forrest Gump, and then for the hundredth time spend several hours reviewing pictures of the children and grandchildren as they evolve from babes to children to adults. After memory-sharing time, I hug each person for a minute or two and whisper to each a final, private, carefully-composed blessing (choking up, characteristically, each time).
Through the mist of tears I thank them for making my life complete. After singing together, with piano and guitar, some golden oldies like “Goodnight, Irene,” “House of the Rising Sun,” and “Softly and Tenderly Jesus Is Calling,” I bid them bon voyage, blow them a kiss, and, all done, lay me down to sleep and pleasant dreams.
March 28
“You can tell a lot about people by the way they handle three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.”
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