Sunday Sept 1, 2013 Morning dew is on each window. I look over green hedges to that turn in the road that slows down traffic whether they like it or not. The windows will be removed today. After all the years of looking out and looking in, our windows need replacing. Weather, time, and rot have taken their toll. The men in the big truck from a national window corporation will be here in a little while. If this sounds a little like ‘a lament for the windows,’ then you hear well. Some of us get to the place where change of any kind is more than difficult—it becomes lamentable. There is only one window in Mama’s old room. This was the house we bought for them long ago. You can be sure if you looked into her room in the early morning, you’d see a mature woman in a small rocking chair sitting next to a well made bed reading the Upper Room and other devotional material. You would win if you bet that the time was about six thirty or so. Same thing, same time, everyday. Breakfast on the table by seven. When Daddy was still with us, and after he went on to heaven. Sameness. Then there are the Seventh Avenue windows. Two windows face that street. They will leave us today or tomorrow as well. It was Dad’s room, now for Tracy and Jeff and those of us who come ‘to the old place.’ There were maps and comic drawings on Dad’s walls, pictures off him playing those pearl white drums with some of the big bands. Now, it’s furniture well chosen, warm and welcoming décor brought to the room by our daughter Tracy. An incident comes to mind and heart. Dad was a good golf player. He was, in fact, good with any and all sports. We get bus. Years pass before I call him about playing a game. “Hey Dad,” I say “I’m off on Thursday and coming the Coast. You want to play a game of golf?” “ “I think I’d rather play golf with someone who can…but come on down. We can have a fine visit,” Dad concluded that call, and went to work as the ‘starter’ at the Diamond Head course. Two windows in the Ricky Ricardo room, three in the living room. Oh, the nights of rest there, and the days of conversation, party, and loss and gain in the tiny living room. Change. We bought the house for them so that ‘they might have a place.’ It became that for them. Having a place is important for us all, but much more so for us as years accumulate. Our windows got bad, and had to be replaced. Some times things change and we have to be’ replaced.’ Just this week I talked with one of our Church folks whose kids wanted her to be in a better place. She doesn’t want to move. “This is my place.” Staying in place as long as we can, as long as it’s safe and possible is important. Let’s do all we can to assure that, and all we can to make it better when ‘place change’ is necessary. Imagine. Sitting here, waiting for the big truck with the new windows to come. Looking out the old windows and wondering if I’m not one of those…at this age…at this time…following this round of treatment… No. Not yet. But when and if ‘window days’ come, Lord help me be ready… Meanwhile, after the windows are installed, we’re going for a long walk on the beach. I’ll make time to talk to wind-- and wave-- and seagull—God—and people too. Happy Sunday. God’s sunshine (through your windows) on you! Always love, always, Keith
Posted on: Sun, 01 Sep 2013 14:28:00 +0000
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