Celebrating the Fourth of July this year, I felt some noticeable absences. (I originally wrote this the week after the fourth.) This was the first Fourth since my grandfather, Dean Richardson, passed away last August. He loved fireworks. He and my mother’s boyfriend would go all out for fireworks. Every year, it seemed, someone barely escaped with all of their fingers, or with all the hair on their head. This year we didn’t have any family celebration.
The other noticeable absence was that of more than one best friend. Two folks I love to spend time with are in Florida on work. And my other best friend, well, he died in October.
I spent the Fourth at a grill-out with my favorite cousin, Taya–who was married to the best friend who died in October. It added a surreal touch to see their 2-year-old son run around without his father to chase him.
It seems to be commonly understood that people begin losing loved ones sometime in their 20s. It has been a year of losses.
It’s hard to walk through the Remax building in Waseca without thinking of Blair. The reminders of him, my grandfather, and my best friend jump out at me when I least expect it.
During Blair’s funeral the pastor said when moments like that happen, it’s those people saying hello. “Let those moment’s happen. Appreciate them.”
I can’t walk past Blair’s desk without thinking there should be a can of Coke there.
The Fourth of July will always remind me of my grandpa.
And 2-year-old Gavin will always remind me of his dad, my friend Bryant.
I knew Bryant from the time we were both in daycare. When we met each other, he told me he didn’t like me. That lasted a long time. I share that story, because prior to last week, I hadn’t seen Gavin since his second birthday a couple months ago. Then Taya showed up at my office. The little guy barely remembered me and I swear it took 45 minutes before he gave me a hug. Just like his dad–hesitant to give his love away at first.
This time, on the Fourth, he remembered me right away, ran up and gave me a hug.
Seeing little Gavin play with Taya, I’m reminded kids need a male role model. I can’t really explain it, but I know that’s important. Yin and yang, I suppose.
Speaking of good and bad, a reader told me they enjoy it when I write about religion.
I was talking with a friend the other day and he mentioned that Catholics believe good deeds are really only good if a person does them for God. I gave that some deep thought because, really, how could doing a good deed for another reason be any less good?
And then I got to thinking. If a person sees an opportunity to do good, and they don’t have faith, the person is likely left weighing the options of whether they should do the good deed or not. They must use their judgment.
I thought about this after I decided I should start using opportunities to do good deeds, to do them for God, instead of just because they’re good. What I found was that I was much more likely to do the good deed. If there was a piece of trash on the ground, I didn’t think, “Why should I be the one to pick that up?” I simply started saying, well, I’m doing this one for You.
And then I got to more thinking, if everyone thought that way, the world would be a lot better off.
In the scenario where I just do good to do good, I might be lazy. Or I might choose to ignore a task if no one was around to see me perform it. From another perspective, if someone was watching, I might have chosen to pick up the trash, so that I will create a positive impression.
I was out for a walk a month ago, prior to this experiment. I walked through the Legion Field complex in New Richland: Near the playground a trash can was knocked over and some trash was blown around. I stood the trash can back up and collected the garbage. My reason for doing so was because I love baseball, and I take pride in the field/playground I grew up playing on. I don’t think I would have gone through the trouble to pick it up otherwise. The thought also occurred to me at this time that the city should have the same enclosed garbage containers they use by the fields at this adjacent playground. I say this because, if not for my faith, or my pride for the area, I would have likely left after that thought and done nothing.
I’d like to think I would have picked up the garbage regardless, but I don’t think so.
My conclusion is pretty simple. Do good for God, or for whatever reasons you have. Just do good.
While I’m on this religion kick, I’ll add some more. My Catholic friend has been doing some teaching with me. (I’ve gone through a few different Bible study type activities since becoming an adult. This is the first Catholic style one.)
One of my disagreements with my friend is kind of based around the “works” part of Catholicism. Honestly, I just really can’t imagine Heaven without my best friend there. I talked to him multiple times about religion and my faith. I never tried to convince him of anything. He asked questions, I told him how it impacted my life and why.
He told me it had such a profound effect that he started reading the Bible. And then he had a seizure while reading the Bible. (My friend had epilepsy.) He didn’t read the Bible again.
He told me this years afterward when he asked about my faith again. I feel like I let my friend down sometimes, by not properly being able to explain my faith to him. I think that’s part of the reason I work so hard still, to learn more and be stronger in my faith.
These same thoughts came back into my mind when Blair died. Blair never talked about his faith, but I knew he was a good person. (And later I learned he did actually go to church.) The thought of not seeing Blair again in Heaven didn’t seem real. Did that mean I would have to mourn him now and later? And truly never see him again? I just can’t imagine and couldn’t imagine a Heaven without Blair.
I don’t have all, or really any, of the answers. Just observations from a writer who misses those he’s lost this past year.
“Is this Heaven? No, it's Iowa.” - Field of Dreams.