I thank you, God, for making me so mysteriously complex! Everything you do is marvelously breathtaking. It simply amazes me to think about it! How thoroughly you know me, Lord! 15 You even formed every bone in my body when you created me in the secret place, carefully, skillfully shaping me from nothing to something. 16 You saw who you created me to be before I became me! Before I’d ever seen the light of day, the number of days you planned for me were already recorded in your book. 17–18 Every single moment you are thinking of me! How precious and wonderful to consider that you cherish me constantly in your every thought! O God, your desires toward me are more than the grains of sand on every shore! When I awake each morning, you’re still with me…
Mr. W was our tough, joke-loving, retired farmer-neighbor who always had a twinkle in his eye. He passed away recently after enduring dementia for the past two years. My 16-year old son was frequently called upon by Mrs. W to help. Here is what my son wrote about Mr. W.
My Memories of Mr. W
Mr. W, a big man with a big personality, was my neighbor for most of my life. He and his wife would visit our house – just down the street – every once in a while. During those visits, they’d make us laugh and have a good time. It was always a pleasure to have them in our home. Occasionally, tiling would need fixing or the ditch needed inspection. Mr. W might drop by for a visit on his way to the field. He would sometimes bring his golf cart along.
1. The golf cart. When he would stop by with his golf cart, I would always want a ride in it. When I got a little older, I drove it for a while (badly). Mr. W’s golf cart was indeed a coveted thing. It even led to me saying to his face one time: “Can you give it to me in your will?” Indeed, a very inappropriate question. At the time though, it must have seemed only practical. What other way would I secure that golf cart in my future? It would long be a conversation starter when our neighbors were ever brought up.
2. Working with Mr. W. One thing everyone knows about Mr. W is that he was a worker. He could fix, build, or remodel just about anything. One time not too long ago, I got to help him build his deck. Of course, I didn’t know much about deck building. But it seemed as though he had built things all his life. He had a confidence in his work that was nothing short of admirable. He was a skilled carpenter, farmer and handyman all at the same time. If you needed something done, there was a good chance he could do it.
3. On the deck. It’s actually funny that I just mentioned a story about the deck. It plays into this next one. When his disease was getting real bad, I was able to come by and help out. It was never a chore, because I genuinely enjoyed it. I enjoyed being able to serve a man who had done so much for my family. Occasionally, I would come by, sit on the couch, and he wouldn’t move an inch. It was as if I weren’t there on those days. He very rarely did anything that caused a problem while I was there. Mr. W was always better in the mornings. Anyone close to him in his last year could tell you that. He would be jovial in the morning. He would comply with just about anything you’d have him do. So it was, early one day in the beauty of the summer, we went out on the deck. The sun was shining, and I’m fairly certain that he had brought out a glass of unfinished milk from breakfast. Anyways, we were just sitting there, and I had the idea to video him. I thought it would make for a great memory if anything were to happen to him. I took out my phone, started a video, and asked him to say hi. He turned his head and smiled in his own way. Kind of an amused, skeptical smile. He never did what I asked, which is fine. I’m just glad I have that video of him in good spirits, on a beautiful day, just living life.
So, goodbye Mr. W, I’ll miss you. I am glad for all the times I’ve had with you. I will treasure that video forever.
My Word Soup 