Measure Twice, Cut Once

Tomorrow, Elsie, Bill and I will venture to Seattle for Dad's memorial service on Saturday. Over 15 years ago many of the same people who will be there Saturday gathered at St. James for Mom's service and then later the internment of her ashes. Of course, it's with bittersweet emotion that I look forward to seeing everyone who will be able to attend the service.

Over the last few weeks I have been creating a photographic tribute to Dad's life. What an 83 years! From Rainy River to Baudette to Flin Flon to Warroad to Guam to Kent to Aiken, his life's journey was filled with great people and great times. He traveled all over the world. He road camels, fished for piranha, crossed the equator (many times), traversed the Panama Canal and climbed to Camp Muir twice. He was always ready for adventure and was ALWAYS early to the airport. I come by that trait honestly. I also think he loved taking me or anyone to the airport.

He was a beekeeper: making it easy to find a metaphor for his life. He worked, he "puttered" and he built. He built our home in Kent. He helped build houses for Joyce and David. He helped me remodel several houses on Vashon Island. He even helped build a church in Alaska. If you had a project, he was there.

In reflecting back on our lives together, I realized he never said no to a request for help. In fact, I only had to say I think I am going to remodel, change the plumbing or take on some other project and he would say when, not how or why. Just, when shall we start? I will miss that concreteness of response the rest of my life. I will miss him.

I heard recently that the hole that is created when we lose a loved one is never filled. We just learn to live with it. He would want us to learn to live without him (he probably would suggest we read about it). He would want us to keep on building things, seeing the world, meeting new people, saying "when" to requests for help and above all measure twice, cut once.