Stopping to Think

  It’s 5:30 am. The morning is in transition from the grey of first light into something more approximating daylight. I look out over the porch, through a gap in the pine trees, to the wheat field across the road. I remember them mostly growing bluegrass in that field, but maybe wheat prices are up this year. Or maybe they thought they would be before the COVID mess. My baby girl is laying on the floor to the right of me, intermittently sucking on her bottle and pulling it away to smile. She’s so happy. I wish he could have met her. This is the first morning I’ve slept in this house, my grandparent’s place, since my grandpa died last December. I came out in June when we did a belated memorial service, but the house was packed with family from all over the country, so I just crashed at my brother’s place in town.  We never called them our “grandparents”, always Grammie and Pak. When or how Pak became our equivalent for grandfather I’ll never know for sure, though I’m told it wa...

Note: Below is is the Eulogy I gave at my grandfather's memorial service. I wanted to share it here 1) to pay tribute to a great man, 2) as a way of one more time expressing thanks to God for him, 3) I want you to read the whole thing, because the last 25% or so is vitally important for all of us. Eulogy for Joe Blackburn Before I begin, I want to thank you on behalf of the family for being here. Joe Blackburn had a unique ability to leave an impression on people. One of the things he impressed on me at an early age, both in words and actions, was this: the way you spend your time both shapes and communicates your values. Or as he might put it, if you care about something you make time for it. So the fact that you planned and followed through on being here today speaks volumes.   Some figures in life loom so large that it’s almost impossible to understand who you are apart from their presence. “How did Pak shape my life?” was a hard question for me to grapple with. Perhaps a b...