"Where have you been, my blue-eyed son? Where have you been, my darling young one?"

An appropriate title for today, but one I can't really comment on until tomorrow. In the meantime, here are more ruminations on people I love and a faith I embrace. Non-believers please note the exits to the right and left of the blog...

Dylan may have written the lyric that provides the title above but I prefer the Bryan Ferry version of the song. That said, today SHOULD be a very special day for me in terms of reuniting with “one of the people I love most in the world.” I’m not sure what I’m allowed to say about it (legally) but will do my best to share the details of, or at least the feelings from, our meeting soon.

My Son, my Father, and my Brother are the three guys I love most in this world. It should be obvious that my two Daughters and my Mom share that distinction among the females in my life.

At twelve years old, I believe my son to be among the wisest people I know – in terms of wisdom, not snarkiness. He has an astounding way of assessing a situation or story and offering comments and opinions that seem well beyond his years. Many are the times he's offered insightful comments that have shifted and changed my thinking in new and better ways. He is also the most generous, comforting, loving, kind-hearted, gentle, even-tempered, empathetic, joyful, endlessly pleasant and funniest people I’ve ever known. To say that I love him doesn’t come close to covering it.
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I consider myself extremely fortunate that my Dad (and Mom) are still living and despite the miles separating us are a very active part of my life. The values they instilled in me have served me well and the definition I have of “taking the high ground” has its origin in my observations of my Dad over the years. I’ve never known him to show anything but compassion to those around him. He’s also incredibly intelligent, loving and probably has the driest sense of humor I’ve ever encountered. That said, he almost always gets me laughing, especially when he senses that’s what I need most.

One of my favorite stories about my Dad and his faith goes as follows. When I was much younger, we used to go to a church that had an enormous (probably life-sized) crucifix suspended above the break in the altar rail, held in place by two chains. My Dad was lectoring (reading) at a Sunday Mass when one of the chains let go from the ceiling and the crucifix swung pendulum-like until finally coming to rest above that spot.

When it came time to distribute the host (Communion) – a part of Dad’s responsibilities at the Mass – the location where he and the priest would typically do so was right beneath this break in the railing and at this point had this huge crucifix hanging above it at a frightening angle. Sadly, and perhaps not surprisingly, the priest came down from his position behind the altar and made a beeline for the safety of a space to one side of the opening in the rail. My Dad on the other hand, stood right under it and dispensed Communion as he had countless times before.

For me, that was as profound an expression of faith as I'd ever seen – and I’ve tried to emulate his faith and resolve ever since. When I mentioned this episode to him recently, he didn’t even remember it. I think at that time he simply knew that God would watch over him.

As a function of witnessing that moment, I’ve come to believe the same. For the last several months, it’s clear that God has been watching over me and has offered many signs that he’s there especially over these last severely trying months. I’m still here and my faith remains absolute and unchallenged. All glory and thanks where it’s due! You don’t have to believe as I do, but please show my faith the same respect I’ll afford yours!

I’ll stop here, but comments about my brother, mentioned several paragraphs back will be posted at a later date. He’s a pretty amazing person in his own right and one of my very best friends!

Tunes of the day: John Lennon - Double Fantasy
(especially for the sake of "Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy)")