Going Home

I was born in Pontiac, Michigan in January 1953. We lived in Milford, Michigan: a small town of only a few thousand.

I lived there until I was 20 years old and moved to Florida, went to college, met my wife and I’ve have been here ever since.

In a few weeks I’ll be traveling to my hometown to visit my sole surviving brother.  He and I are the last of our family.  After we are gone our children and grandkids will carry on our lineage.

My trip will last five days.  I’ll arrive at the Flint airport around noon.  The first day I’m there my brother (Rich) and I will have a lot of catching up to do. 

Tentative plans are to spend some time with my nephews and nieces and their families, a full day with my high school friend (Tim) touring about Milford, attend Wednesday church services with my brother, do a lot of visiting, eating out and reminiscing and then head back to Florida on Saturday.

I’m looking forward to it.  Over these last few years my brother and I have grown much closer.  We lost our middle brother over two years ago and Rich lost his wife just over a year ago.

While it is true you can never go back to your past, I hope to at least stir up a few memories, spend time with the people I love and return home with a new appreciation of how fortunate I am to have such a great family.

I vowed after my middle brother (Dallas) died that I would go to see my surviving brother before it was too late to do so.

Dallas and I had plans to see each other one year before he passed away.

But, health issues, moving, family situations and schedules did not permit it.  I regret not seeing him before he died to this day.

Rich and I were honored to say a few words at his funeral and I got to spend some time with Dallas’s family while I was there.

Time passes so quickly.  Before you know it, you’ve grown up.  As the years mount precious family and friends pass away, familiar surroundings change and the specter of death draws closer every hour.

I am so grateful that I was saved back in 1978 and that all three of my brothers and their spouses (and many of their kids) were also saved-along with our mom.

While I am in no hurry to leave this life I am assured that I will see them again.  With God’s grace many more of my family will be saved as well as dear friends.

I’m 66 years old, 19 years older than my dad was when he died.  Perhaps I’ll see him in the next life, as I never knew him in this one.

As I grow older I’ve come to realize that all those things that seemed so important and urgent as I grew up really don’t amount to much.

Fame, fortune, health, youth--they all fad as the years mount up.

It all comes down to two things: loving God and loving others.  Without those two things life is meaningless.

Take the time to thank God, say a kind word and give a hug to those close to you for tomorrow they may be gone.