what a life

i miss phil.

he was a friend, a character, a sage, a "rock star uncle" (or cousin) for kids. and he had the joy of a kid in his heart. playful. inquisitive. curious. simple. again i'm reminded of picasso's observation, "it takes a long time to grow young."

anyway, writing is my form of therapy. a way to deal with the tremendous void that comes from the loss of a dear friend. makes you realize how much our earthly experience is enriched by those around us. especially those like phil, with whom i'd shared some of the most enjoyable times and important milestones of life.

when i returned home from tucson saturday, i wanted so badly to share the amazing experience of friday's memorial service with mary. so i did. (accompanied by the "dark side of the moon" cd i popped into the stereo, as a tribute to phil.) i told her about every part of the powerful 2 1/2 hour celebration. the stories. the songs. the remembrances. the prayers. the overwhelming support of an overflow crowd.

when i shared with her the triumphant climax of the service -- the rising of the hundreds in attendance to the last stanza of "when peace like a river" -- we both broke into tears.

for us, the song -- and our reaction to it -- serves as a powerful testimony to phil's life. a life lived with the purpose and hope of a new body, at home with the Lord.