Men Hate To Cry

Men hate to cry, they rarely ever do. But when a man cries over you, I can gurantee he loves he loves you. Because men only cry when they lose something or are afraid of losing something that they love as much or more than themselves.

Writing On the Back of the Tombstone

Visiting my brother's grave and looking at what I put on the back of his tombstone. It says from Psalms...."O that had wings like a dove and I can fly away and be at rest." It sits beneath a big Magnolia tree where my dad and grandparents are buried. The concrete cross I put there in the background of the picture is where they originally were going to bury him. There was already a person buried there unmarked. Someone poor had snuck into the cemetery during the Depression and buried their family member there, they said, cause they probably couldn't afford to bury them. So I put the concrete cross there to mark the unmarked grave. My kids told me at the time that," Daddy, you don't know who is buried there." I said,"but God does." So now I come to visit my brother's grave to think a lot of times and pray. And remember that God doesn't forget even those in unmarked graves with no names. That He remembers each and everyone of us. That no one is insignificant to Him. That concrete cross reminds me of that everytime I see it.

Stars Shine Brightest In Darkness

I read about what people write. I read a sense of sadness from so many. A reaching out to others. Some kind of hope and affirmation that they are not alone in this world. That their suffering isn't quietly being done and noone cares. Remember there are peaks and valleys. More valleys than peaks it seems. Valleys are where the darkness is the greatest. But its a place where stars shine their brightest for all to see.

 

Pain

Pain, my brother use to say is a part of living. He suffered much in life, born with Noonan Syndrome, a rare heart condition that caused multiple problems. He wasn't suppose to live to the age of 8. God blessed him to live to the age of 40. But pain racked his body from becoming tired so easily. The cardiologist told my mom that our worst day was his best day. And the psychological pain of growing up different from the other kids compounded a problem. But no matter what form ...the pain took, it was a constant companion. But the pain that we endure reminds us that this world is not our home. Now he has gone on and his cross is left behind. So I gather one more cross left by a love one and saddle it with mine. So his pain becomes my pain in my heart. The hurt he felt in this life, I absorb. And I learn lessons about pain by what he endured. And my pain and his pain become one. And I struggle in the storm to find the will to fight.
The pain sharpens the senses for the fight. Watch my back brother in this life. I need you more than ever.