Each week, I try to come up with something that I feel might be of interest to
you and then slant my viewpoint in a humorous or satirical manner. Since Iíve
been doing this for over 20 years, there have only been a few periods in which
Iím unable to put a funny spin on some topic or another.
This is one of
those periods. I think the last one happened during September of 2001. Nothing
seemed funny for a long time that month.
Years ago, in my other life,
I was a cop in a big city in this country. After having graduated from the police
academy I was yanked out and stuck in the Vice squad as an undercover officer.
It appears to me now that I was so dumb and naÔve that no criminal in his or her
right mind would think I was a real policeman. But I was.
me up with an older officer, who became a mentor and a friend in spite of our
ages and backgrounds. He thought I was the dumbest thing that ever came out of
police school and I thought he was so old and decrepit that he couldnít keep up
with me. It was not love at first sight. We fought like cats and dogs and I canít
even begin to tell you how bad it was, for a time. Then we agreed to discuss our
differences and work together. Once we got everything ironed out, we tore the
town up and made case after case that left others standing in the dust, shaking
their heads in amazement. We were a great team.
I learned a lot from
this man. He was a mentor of the first order. ------- I also came to know his
wife and three beautiful daughters, who were just kids 40 years ago. Iíve watched
them grow into young ladies and have kept up with them over the years.
Neither of us retired from the police department. I left to go into business and
he left to go into ranching. I didnít know anything about business, and he didnít
know anything about ranching. Both of us survived and have made a decent living
along the way. We may not see each other very often, but we talk on the phone
and we always know each of us is on the other end of the line if anything comes
up. Thatís what friends are for.
Last week, his oldest daughter died. His
youngest daughter went to assist with the arrangements and became so saddened;
she suffered a brain aneurysm and is not expected to live as well. My friend is
making arrangements for her funeral as well.
Two daughters in one week.
When I talk to him, I cannot find any words to say. I just listen to him in his
grief. We cry together. You want to reach through the phone lines and just grab
him in his sorrow.
I canít say it will be all right, because for right
now, it isnít all right. Your kids arenít supposed to die before you do. It just
isnít natural. It isnít right. It goes against the order of things.
canít say, ďI know how you feelĒ because I donít. Iíve lost a baby, but he was
stillborn, not someone I had raised for forty years. Thereís a big difference.
I cannot imagine this, most of us canít. I feel so useless. I want to say something,
but nothing comes out.
Someone once wrote,ĒThese are the times that try
menís souls.Ē I donít know in what context he was referring, but I feel this situation
certainly qualifies if ever there was one. All of us pray, we pray for the family
and we pray for ourselves as well. I donít understand these things; I donít think
any of us do. Our lives and our little problems are minor and insignificant in
comparison to something such as this.
I want to hold my kids and keep
He wanted the same.
I donít know what to say, except