Friday, July 12, 2013

Abundance and Prosperity

My brother-in-law recently passed. In many ways Marty's life was different than mine. He was a master craftsman, and I can scarcely hammer a nail. I've traveled the world, and I don't know if Marty had a passport. He was a legendary Little League coach, and I've not been able to hold a favorite team (until Bryce Harper came along, that is). Marty drank more than I do, and in the end it was complications from liver failure that took him away.

Because my residence has a few more square feet than Marty's did, and my bank account might contain a few more dollars, and I'm still here and he is gone, one could conclude that my life has been more abundant or blessed or prosperous than his. If so, that person would be making a serious miscalculation.

Marty knew how to have fun. The night before his death, his family said he was laughing and joking and talking about baseball. I've never hung out at a bar with friends - one of his favorite pastimes - in my life. I spend most evenings watching Judge Judy and reading a book.

I arrived early at the church for the memorial service, and was sitting in one of the front pews when I noticed a woman in jeans and a spaghetti-strap blouse come up to slowly examine the montage of photos collected there. Her clothing made her stand out from the somber attire worn by most of the other mourners. After the service was over I walked outside and noticed her standing alone. I greeted her and said I was Marty's brother-in-law. She said she lived in the apartment next to his for the last six months. "We all used to go out partying and drinking almost every night," she said. "We had some wild crazy times."

I told her I was glad she had come to the service. "I had to," she replied. "I couldn't have stayed away."

If any of my kids are concerned that I too might be on the lookout for women wearing spaghetti-strap blouses to party hearty, have no fear. I wouldn't even know how to do it. At least not half as good as Marty. 


aemish said...

What a disappointing final sentiment toward a man who is no longer living as well as his relatives.

I had more respect for you than this.

On a blog?


Ramonita said...