This post is dedicated to my Great-Uncle Clifford.
He passed away on Father's Day 2009, and we all miss him so much already! Angie and I were
always together as kids, and he would come and get me in rain, sleet, or snow just so we could hang out. In fact, one of my most fond moments of his life is how angry he got with us (me and Angie) when his truck broke down in the snow...as we made up songs to sing to the tune of Christmas songs about other cars that had broken down. I can remember him saying, "Girls!" I think he meant to say "Shut Up!" I will never forget this moment, ever! It was so funny to us.
As I was at the celebration of his life, I was listening to my Uncle Gary give the eulogy. He taught Gary how to hunt. "What did he teach me?", I thought. I looked around the church at the many friends and family who were gathered to honor him, and one thought popped into mind. It was, "How many of these people did he teach how to swim?" I'm willing to bet the farm he taught most of them.
He did teach me and Leigh Ann how to swim. I am pretty sure he taught my mom too. And I am quite certain we could establish our very own army if we named
just how many people he did teach.
How does this all relate to his life? I'm glad you asked:
Can you imagine what that "learning process" felt like? Some of you may remember first hand, some may not. I don't. However, I can
imagine what it felt like. And I bet it went something like this:
I imagine feeling anxious--excited to learn, but scared of the "deep-end." I wouldn't be able to touch the bottom. I'm sure as a child, a very scary feeling is "Sink or Swim." I can imagine he told me that I would need to kick my feet and move my arms to stay on top of the water, and that he would be right there with me as I learned. I can imagine he took me out to the deep end before I felt ready, because he had more faith in me than I had in myself. I can imagine me in the water, kicking with all my might and him reaching out his hand to bring me back up when I started to go under. I can imagine the excitement I felt when I realized I was swimming after all. I can imagine how proud he was of me in that moment and satisfied to know he had prepared me for this venture.
His absence here has left many people feeling as if they would "sink." They are in deep waters, over their heads, and feel as if they are drowning in sorrow. And I can imagine him, right there beside us all, reaching out his hand, saying, "You have to kick your feet with all your might to stay on top of the water." I can imagine him taking us each to the deep end of grief and saying, "I know you are ready," even if we feel as if we aren't. I can imagine him reaching out his hand to all of us, and pulling us back up with fond memories when we feel as if we are sinking in sadness. And I can imagine how proud he is that his family and friends are learning to swim through the rest of life without him, because he had prepared us for this venture.
This analogy doesn't compare to the impact he left on so many lives. But I'm willing to bet, even in Heaven, he is teaching someone new how to Swim! It saddens me to think that Kade will learn how to swim from someone else, but rest assured I will be thinking of you, Uncle Clifford, in that moment.
For Gloria and family....
