Are we experiencing more natural disasters or does it feel that way due to hyper media coverage?
Almost three years ago to the day, my brother-in-law and his wife lost their home and their jobs due to Hurricane Katrina. They were in the middle of the New Orleans destruction. They have since relocated but I'm sure they're paying attention to Hurricane Gustav headed for the same region.
Mississippi is also in the path of danger. We have family members there and although they're not on the coast, they could feel the impact. If the Belle were here, she would be fretting.
Florida may not escape. If it's not Gustav, there's another storm gearing up behind it. Remember the year that Florida got hit with three back-to-back hurricanes? My parents and I flew into central Florida for my Uncle Ken's funeral and we were shocked at the destruction we saw from the air.
Showing posts with label hurricanes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hurricanes. Show all posts
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Monday, September 3, 2007
An Anniversary
Today is an important anniversary. Three years ago, an amazing man moved out of this life and on to the next. That man was my Uncle Ken.
The bulk of his professional life was spent as a Methodist minister. Before that, he worked for Yardley. My mother tells me he was the third top salesman in the nation. (I still have numerous Yardley products that he gave me.) Sometimes I try to imagine the look on his wife's face when he announced that he needed to leave this lucrative position and go into the seminary.
He loved babies. His wife had four and said, "Enough!" As most minister's families will tell you, his heart may be at home but his days and nights belong to the parishoners. I suspect being a minister's wife (or child) is a noble, yet lonely calling. He lived to enjoy most of his grandchildren. Wouldn't he be thrilled to know another is on the way?
When the husband and I were married, our official ceremony was performed by a Justice of the Peace. (We'd both been married before.) Yet, I had a problem that we had not made a commitment with God involved. Less than a week after our legal marriage, Uncle Ken and Aunt Cess came to town. He let us take our vows again and he added God to our union. I needed it.
When I was a little girl, I didn't see them very often but each visit is ingrained in my mind. He was also my "go-to" person. If I had a question about the bible or some puzzling nibble about evolution versus creation, I would ask Uncle Ken.
His works spanned the world. Still do. When his fluke of an illness caused his kidneys to fail, he just added that to his prayer list. He spent countless hours (years!) in dialysis. Beyond comforting the other patients, he went through his prayer list. Sometimes he would tell me that he was praying for me, my family, my dog. This always struck me as so him -- "You're sitting in dialysis and you're praying for my dog?!"
He was a shopper and a collector, much to his wife's chagrin. Someone has to be the saver and someone has to be the spender in each marriage. Ying and Yang.
He had the nerve to die during one of Florida's worst hurricane seasons. Three in a row -- no relief in sight. My parents and I flew in. The devastation we saw from the air only scratched the surface of the devastation in our hearts.
Uncle Ken didn't live life with blinders on. Instead, he took the blinders off and jumped in to help. I think he wanted all of us to take them off. So, I try.
The bulk of his professional life was spent as a Methodist minister. Before that, he worked for Yardley. My mother tells me he was the third top salesman in the nation. (I still have numerous Yardley products that he gave me.) Sometimes I try to imagine the look on his wife's face when he announced that he needed to leave this lucrative position and go into the seminary.
He loved babies. His wife had four and said, "Enough!" As most minister's families will tell you, his heart may be at home but his days and nights belong to the parishoners. I suspect being a minister's wife (or child) is a noble, yet lonely calling. He lived to enjoy most of his grandchildren. Wouldn't he be thrilled to know another is on the way?
When the husband and I were married, our official ceremony was performed by a Justice of the Peace. (We'd both been married before.) Yet, I had a problem that we had not made a commitment with God involved. Less than a week after our legal marriage, Uncle Ken and Aunt Cess came to town. He let us take our vows again and he added God to our union. I needed it.
When I was a little girl, I didn't see them very often but each visit is ingrained in my mind. He was also my "go-to" person. If I had a question about the bible or some puzzling nibble about evolution versus creation, I would ask Uncle Ken.
His works spanned the world. Still do. When his fluke of an illness caused his kidneys to fail, he just added that to his prayer list. He spent countless hours (years!) in dialysis. Beyond comforting the other patients, he went through his prayer list. Sometimes he would tell me that he was praying for me, my family, my dog. This always struck me as so him -- "You're sitting in dialysis and you're praying for my dog?!"
He was a shopper and a collector, much to his wife's chagrin. Someone has to be the saver and someone has to be the spender in each marriage. Ying and Yang.
He had the nerve to die during one of Florida's worst hurricane seasons. Three in a row -- no relief in sight. My parents and I flew in. The devastation we saw from the air only scratched the surface of the devastation in our hearts.
Uncle Ken didn't live life with blinders on. Instead, he took the blinders off and jumped in to help. I think he wanted all of us to take them off. So, I try.
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