Last Friday, I had reason to drive through some of our beautiful East Texas woods and rolling hills. The skies were clear except for flat-bottomed cotton ball cumulus clouds that fill our skyward view through so much of the summer. As I watched them float across the sky, my mind was taken to memories of my youth.

We moved to 405 Fairlane Dr. off Pine Tree Rd. when I was five. We had lived on a county road just outside Kilgore until then and so were isolated to just ourselves. My dad had gone to work for Eastman in April 1956 and had worked hard to get us a new home in a good place, and he did. I remember, after moving in, meeting other kids our age that weren’t family for the first time. It was life-changing. There were more than one hundred kids within a few blocks of my home. (I did a count one day as I rode through the old neighborhood and remembered who lived where.) We all went to Pine Tree, and although the ages of us kids spanned several years, we all seemed to get along, with the younger looking to the older as role models and sometimes as protector. The older tended to watch over the younger because they had a sibling among them and they knew they were responsible for them.

On days like this, the kids in the neighborhood were usually up and out early. We would grab our bikes and hit the streets. We would all take off in a group to some location common to us all and known by our parents. We knew pretty much everyone in our neighborhood for six blocks in every direction. There were a lot of stay-at-home moms, and a lot of the men worked at Eastman, Continental Can or Schlitz Brewery and knew each other.

The joy of flying down the street with the wind in our very short summer hair even now brings a smile. The roar of the playing cards clipped to the bicycle forks filled the air. We laughed, yelled, sweat, bumped and banged down the street with the abandon only a child knows. We threw sweet gum balls and rocks at each other and slept in the back yard together. Home-made Slip N’ Slides, home-made popsicles, riding to the pool together. (It is hard for me to believe that pool held so many kids!). I experienced, and depended on, the connection I had made with those kids. So many of those friendships last to this day. I was strongly influenced by those relationships, and what I learned from them. I was taught friendliness, acceptance, and loyalty, qualities I want to hold onto all my life and hopefully pass on to whomever I am able.

There is a popular phrase – “the halcyon days of youth”. Merriam-Webster defines “halcyon” thusly: “characterized by happiness, great success, and prosperity : golden —often used to describe an idyllic time in the past that is remembered as better than today”. Baz Luhrmann in his wonderful treatise “Everybody’s Free (To Wear Sunshade)” says “nostalgia … is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts, and recycling it for more than it’s worth”. I admit to being a sentimental, nostalgic old fool about those days. I know they weren’t all perfect, but who wants to celebrate the bad? Please forgive an old man for his reverie.

I have determined that I am an admirer of great communicators. I know there are some that immediately link this to Ronald Reagan, and he is an excellent example, but communication occurs on so many levels that to limit it to speech alone would be to ignore so many others.

When I was young, I read Jack London’s Call of the Wild. I can still see Buck as he stands over the snow-covered valleys. Earnest Hemingway, even with his sparse sentence structure, was able to transport the reader to Paris, Spain, or elsewhere and plant us in the story in such a way as to cause us to feel we are intruding in the moment. Contemporary writers are seemingly held in lower esteem, but when I read David Baldacci’s Wish You Well, I am there on that mountain in Virginia.

Not novelists only, but essayists, magazine writers, columnists all provide me with the enjoyment of seeing an idea shared in such a way as to capture my attention and my thoughts even if we disagree on the subject matter. A well-reasoned position well stated is a pleasure to read. I appreciate a wordsmith. There are two men within my circle of friends that I admire: Danny Grizzle and Bob Gambill. If you have never allowed yourself the time to read their posts, you are doing yourself a grave disservice. Read and enjoy the play of words across your screen. They will move you.

I love singers (I am married to one!), particularly those that tell me a story. Sometimes it’s a song they have written, sometimes it’s one they make their own. Listen to Bonnie Raitt sing “Home” and tell me you don’t grow a bit misty-eyed, and maybe long for something past. Listen to anything by Frank Martin Gilligan: “Silver Dollar”, “A Piece of Ireland”, “Children of the Gael”. You will be connected to those places and people and may never forget them. Listen to Reneé worship. You will be in His presence if you allow it.

I could continue (and I wish I could), but I think you see my point. I strive to be able to communicate like these above, and, maybe over time, I will get better.

This week I realized I haven’t written much lately, and I wondered why. After some thought, I have come to this conclusion: I’ve been busy.

In the fall, I started my own endeavor. That kept me busy making a living. Then in February, we started remodeling our bathroom. It was a total tear out and rebuild. That process took a few weeks, then back to work. Then, in April, I got the opportunity to go to work at company doing what I’ve wanted to do for years. It’s been a great change but It keeps me busy.

I’m not even mentioning the holidays. I took some time to spend with Reneé, Candace, and Jude. I hadn’t done that in a while. I needed it as much as (really more than) they did. They are capable of making it on their own. I am not. I need them in order to survive, even more now than before.

And Reneé and I are finally going aboard ship in October, something we have wanted to do for a long time. We have taken the time to laugh, cry, talk, watch movies, be with friends. All those things we said we would do “someday”. Well, “someday” is here. Priorities have changed dramatically.

I haven’t written much because life continues on around us. Overwhelming grief is always just a picture, song or thought away, but mostly now it’s just a dark smudge in our thoughts. We miss Zack, and that will never change. We take the time to think about him and talk about him every day, always with a smile and usually accompanied with tears. His place in our hearts will never be filled. But our daily lives are being filled with living. And I guess that’s the way it’s supposed to be

A couple of days ago while out shopping, I saw a lifelong friend that had recently lost her husband. I had heard of his passing, but had not spoken to her. I walked over and gave her a hug while we were checking out. I didn’t say a word. She began to cry quietly and I just held her tighter. After a few moments, she gathered herself, looked at me and said, “I don’t know what to do.”

Grief is personal. There is no “right way” to grieve. The books, the psychologists and popular society each say that there is a process that every person goes through, and I’m sure they are fairly accurate, but I’m not the eponymous “everyone”. Neither is she. Her relationship with her husband was unique in history. There has never been, nor will there ever be again, a relationship like theirs, so her grieving will be unique to her. There is no saying, “It’s time you moved on with life”, or “Don’t you think you should go through his things?” No one has the right to tell her that. She will know when to take the next step. Only her.

In the last year, I have had the privilege to talk to others who have lost a loved one and they all say the same as my friend, “I don’t know what to do.” I don’t either, but I do know, although I am not the only parent that has lost a child, I AM the only Randy that lost Zack, therefore my grief is playing out differently than anyone else’s.

If you are grieving from a loss, understand that it’s YOUR loss, not someone else’s. From the time we lost Zack, Reneé, Candace and I have each had our own way of surviving each day. You do, too. The days will get mostly easier, but some days will be very hard. That’s OK. You will sleep again, and smile again, and laugh and cry as the memories come. Allow yourself to do that your way.

I wish I could hold each of you while you cry.

Reneé, Candace, Jude and I had a wonderful trip to Austin this weekend. We saw our Austin family along with some other family members that made the trip from here to be with us. We had decided to let a part of Zack be at his favorite place. As we released his ashes into the river, some settled immediately to the bottom, but some took to the current and continued on his journey. He never got his fill of adventure, or seeing new places, and it seems that will continue. Thank you all for your prayers for us through this. Although the pain is at times unbearable, the joy of allowing him to stay there where his heart was gives us peace.

Reneé and I asked Zack’s friends if they wanted to have some ashes to spread, and they all said yes. This is them each taking a moment to think about him before they released them. They were in no hurry, and it was silent except for the noise of the river. It was the most special moment of the weekend. This shows their love for him. What more could a dad and mom ask? My sister Sandra took this picture because we couldn’t.

I got a message just after midnight from a friend that told me her 20-year-old granddaughter is in rehab in the DC area. The girl’s father gave the choice of either rehab or jail. My friend thinks the father may not let his daughter come home again unless she gets sober.

So many parents see their addicted children as “damaged goods”. Well, they are. So are the parents. So are the preachers, policemen and trash collectors. We all need to be restored. If you have an addicted child, FIGHT for them. They probably don’t know how to fight for themselves, and they need to know that you believe they are worth fighting for.

Love them always. They may embarrass you at times. So what? Who cares? Get over it. They did the same when they were babies and you didn’t threaten to throw them away then. What has changed? God’s love for you comes with no limitations or qualifications. Be a reflection of that same love for your child, spouse or friend. Embarrassment is no price at all to save a child.

This grandma is in anguish because she doesn’t know where the girl is. That’s OK. The Holy Spirit does, and no wall of any kind can separate her granddaughter from the Father. He may choose to let her know somehow, but she can still rest knowing that the Father has that child in His sights.

Now, all you atheists, agnostics and nay-sayers need to bow out of this one. This is not a forum to discuss the reality of God. What I and my friends believe is not hurting you in any way, real or imagined, so button it.

Please pray for my friend. The Father knows who and where she is.

I am really angry tonight. I just found out that another young man, the son of an old friend in another state, died today from drugs. I never met the young man, but that doesn’t matter. He was loved by his family, and I love his family. Beyond that, he was someone with a future, but no longer.

I am at a loss. I know some of the mechanics of drug addiction. I know that some addictions, like opiate addiction is as more physical than psychological. Others are more psychological in nature. Whatever the motivation, almost all start because something is missing. Zack wanted adventure and new experiences, and was persuaded to try drugs as the way to have them. Others want peace, or to be numb.

These kids need hope and help, and the only hope they have is through the Cross. The problem is that we, the church, have been so worried about getting them into the building that we have not confronted them with their need, and what it will cost them. Satisfying a need has a cost.

From the day we are born, our lives are forfeit. That means we will lose our lives to something. That could be drugs, money, sex, and all manner of temporary things. At the end of all that is darkness. Or we could lose our lives to the Cross.The results of that trade is peace, love, purpose, and restoration, among so many more things.

Call me “preacher” if you’d like. I don’t care. I haven’t been preachy enough. I am not going to beat you up with the Bible, but I will do as the Bible commands: I will love you. End of discussion. No matter the situation. You cannot make me stop.

Each person reacts to great tragedy differently along a spectrum that, in my mind, is bounded on one end by acting like nothing changed, the other end being that all life and purpose stops. Those at the latter end live a life that is marked by desperation for all things to return to the prior state of normality, and they come across with a fake, forced demeanor, wild-eyed and smiling a plastered-on smile and their mouths are filled with unnatural laughter.

Those at the former end are morose and sad, defined by a single event forever, never looking beyond that event, for all hope is lost forever. Joy has fled far from them. As far they are concerned, the world, and time itself, could end for there is no reason to continue.

Where did I land? Honestly, I can’t be sure. Each day is different, but generally, I have continued, like most people do. No matter how I feel, life goes on. I have a wife, a daughter, and a grandson to consider, therefore the man in me is driven to make sure they are covered and cared for. As a husband, father and grandfather, it is my joyful obligation to provide as much for them as I am able, therefore I must set aside the desire to quit. One death at a time, please.

You may wonder how hard that has been, and some have asked how we have been able to laugh and have fun again. The secular answer is this: No matter how we react, no matter the choices we make, or how we live our lives, whether sad or glad, we will never get Zack back, so we are driven to celebrate his life with ours.

The real answer is that we have hope, and that hope drives us to get up in the morning, fulfill our obligations, love those we can, laugh when we can, and to share that hope with all we can. Our hope is that we will be with him again.

As I write this, I can hear the groans and the sighs, and see the rolling eyes, not just from those who have no faith in God or a hope of redemption, but also from the judgmental Christian community that has God figured out and know that there is no way Zack made it to heaven because he didn’t live the way they think he should have. To both of those groups: Please come to an understanding of grace.

Grace received will give you joy and hope at all times and in all circumstances and mollify all your fears of failure. Grace given will allow you to accept that maybe you don’t know everything about God. Your life will be happier knowing it is not all in your hands.