Photo courtesy of Whitmer Photography
I have a thing for old men, and I know just when it started.
Now I said OLD men, not older. The men who catch my eye these days are the ones who need assistance ascending the stairs at church, or the elderly widowers in the grocery store with puzzled expressions and hands that tremble on their shopping carts.
At a patriotic concert, my tears pooled as a municipal band struck up a medley of hymns representing the armed forces, and the oldest men present struggled up out of their lawn chairs to stand, proud if not totally erect, when their branch was recognized.
No need to notify my husband about this quirk of mine. Mike loves me enough to pause in his crowded days to read my blogposts. And he’s the only older man (by a good six weeks) that I’m interested in. Besides, he understands that a daughter who has lost her dad still unconsciously looks for him in a crowd.
There – that tilt of a cap. See that unsteady gait. Stoop to talk, none-too-softly, with a wheelchair-bound gent in the assisted living facility.
Mike and I were at a church business meeting three years ago when an urgent call came from my brother urging us to quickly return to the hospital we had just left. Dad had taken an unexpected turn and wasn’t expected to live long. We rushed to Peoria, he rallied, and lingered two days longer until my sister arrived from overseas.
Dad was born into eternal life on the 19th of November. I warily watch that date on the calendar approach each year as if it’s a strange dog coming at me on the sidewalk. I don’t know whether it will bite me or lick my hand.
So I do what people do who have lost a loved one. I honor him in my own way.
No cemetery visits, though those are fine for some. Dad’s not there – never has been.
No ignoring the date as if “ it’s-no-big-deal- because- everyone-loses-their-parents-sometime.”
Instead I write out my remembrance, tapping away in the early dusk of a Tuesday evening as if the computer keys will unlock my heart.
On this coming Friday, the 19th of November, I will attend the event saved on my calendar: another church dinner meeting. Mike and my mom will be there too. Together we will bow our heads around a table filled with members of our church family: old men, young ones. Older women, younger ones. Babies and toddlers. The beautiful Body of Christ.
And I have a thing for them all.
Filed under: Reflections, Tuesdays with Maggie Tagged: | body of Christ, fathers, older people
Mary and I are so glad we got to know your Dad, even though briefly. He was very special, we know.
Maggie, this brings tears readily. I know exactly what you’re talking about.
Beautiful, Maggie. I can’t say how often–even after 18 years–an older man’s posture or gait will cause me to take a second look thinking I’ve caught sight of my dad. I’ve got a thing about those older guys, too–particularly those who served our country so unselfishly. My heart will be with yours on the 19th.
Oh Mags, I can picture your dad in my minds eye…. I still see him and your mom. He was so proud of you. I know he is waiting eagerly for your mom and you. Makes me think it’s like that county music song Waiting on a woman…by Brad Paisley
I’ve read somewhere statistics show
The man’s always the first to go
And that makes sense ’cause I know she won’t be ready
So when it finally comes my time
And I get to the other side
I’ll find myself a bench, if they’ve got any
I hope she takes her time, ’cause I don’t mind
Waitin’ on a woman.
Honey, take your time, cause I don’t mind
Waitin’ on a woman…
Jac, I have never heard that song but it fits the photo so perfectly! I copied your message to my friends the Whitmers who let me use their photo.
I am also copying what you sent to MIke, as it might be something he can use in a funeral reflection sometime when the husband precedes the wife, as usually happens. Jac, thank you for taking time to read my posts – that means so much to me.
So beautifully written, Maggie… today (Nov., 16) is the day my dad was ushered into eternity back in 1978 (32 years ago!) — and I treasure seeing old men who remind me of him. What a gift it was to have a father who made it so easy to love my Heavenly Father. Eternity awaits — what a great family reunion we’ll have!! love you…
Oh Nancy, how amazing that the very day you read that post was the day of your own dad’s Homegoing. Yes, Eternity awaits!
Till He returns…precious sister.
I know, Maggie…thank you for this post:)
Charlene, I think of your precious mother so often. She was so kind to us, and to me she was the epitome of the gracious southern woman.
The day will come, and it won’t be long, when we have the ultimate family reunion.
How beautifully expressed. It was a joy for me to know your Dad and watch the two of you together. It is a bittersweet joy we have here when those we love so dearly are called Home. As I watch my Mom slip away in her mind, I long to hold on to her yet know the sweetest release would be for the Lord to call her Home. With my love and prayers to a precious sister in the Lord, Kathy
This is a beautiful post, Mom.
I wrote your Mom, my dear friend, and told her how wonderful your words are. I had the pleasure of visiting with your Dad when he and your Mom came to St. Paul for the Kindergarten Gals reunion. He was such a nice, pleasant man . I really enjoy your messages, and ditto a lot of what the other people said..
It doesn’t seem possible that my dad has been gone 4 years this year. Seems like a lifetime ago! I thank God every day for being gracious and taking him when he did.
I know my mom welcomed him with open arms.
His homegoing was Nov. 26th and Thanksgiving will always remind us of him. Thanks for your blog. I love older men too – especially Allan Nickerson! He’s so cute.
They had to sell their house and will be moving in January closer to their daughter.
xoxo Judy
Judy, it doesn’t seem real to me either that it’s already been 4 years for your dad and 3 for mine. Your dad was always so kind to us. I’m glad he and your mom are together again and HOME.
love to you and Bob,
Maggie
Beautiful, Maggie. In a way, it was sort of blog noir.
On my parents’ wedding anniversary (11.20), we will attend the wedding of the daughter of close friends in Philadelphia. You’re right, those dates do not go away, at least not for me.
I will have a total left knee replacement done on Jan 17, so I will be waddling and limping like one of the old guys you’re attracted to. No promises, though, Marian would not approve.