Woke up early this Sunday morning. Mindful of this verse immediately upon waking. My Uncle Jim's favorite verse. Always and frequently quoted during times of uncertainty, change, and transition. Not some things but all things.
Copyright James E. Martin 2005 James P. Rines Jr.
James P. Rines Jr. declared the whole counsel of God that the sheep might hear His voice. It's been nine years since his passing. He was sent to me. And I was most fortunate to have him in my life.
And from Romans 10:14-15:
14 How shall they call on him in whom they have not believed? And how shall they believe in him of whom they have not heard? And how shall they hear without a preacher?
15 And how shall they preach, except they be sent? As it is written, How beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace, and bring glad tidings of good things!
Copyright James E. Martin 2005 James P. Rines Jr. 1930-2005
Coming up on the anniversary September 28. I was fortunate to be there with him in 2005. There was a lot of change, uncertainty, and transition from September to December 2005 after his passing. I made a lot of personal and professional schedule changes to work through the uncertainties and conflicting commitments during that time. It took a lot of mental toughness and extra effort.
Jim's wife, Elaine, had gone missing on her 77th birthday a few months before Jim died. He died without knowing what happened to her. We did not find her until the following Spring 2006 when some raccoon hunter's dogs treed a raccoon on the remote and secluded edge of the city of Statesville, N.C. Elaine's bones were at the base of the tree, on the surface, with her keys and remnants of her clothes scattered about that matched her description on the day of her disappearance. With a proper forensic investigation by the authorities, there was apparently no evidence of foul play and we were assured through DNA evidence that it was her. I visited the site afterwards with the investigator.
I believe she had been to that place of rest and respite before. She was a Carolina mountain girl. Loved the natural settings. Disliked the progress of civilization and urban sprawl. This location was away from buildings, and traffic, and the sounds of the city. But within a healthy walking distance from her home. She disliked modern medicine and health methods. Practiced natural, organic, herbal healing methods as an Appalachian woman. If she had intended to go to a natural, forested, peaceful place to die, which she plausibly could have been thinking within her value system, this would have been an appropriate setting. According to my Uncle Jim, she and he had had recent dialog's together recalling their lives and experiences together. Perhaps a mutual reminiscing of the ups and downs of a long married life. Perhaps an unloading of burdens. Perhaps some final, confessional, departing words. Perhaps a departure formulating in her mind to her but not fully disclosed to him. It is hard to say by those of us who remain behind.
Elaine was an artist. When I mowed their lawn and inspected their flower beds, there were white, goose-egg-sized rocks in her yard that matched the nearby stream bed and were scattered amongst the leaf litter on the nearby hillside of her discovered resting place. There were two fallen logs where she could sit to listen to the gurgling stream, the chattering birds, and the rustle of the wind in the leaves. There was a tree canopy above to create a cool, scattered sunlight on the clearings and ferns below. There was a black, plastic landscape bucket with spaghum moss not natural to the area. Suitable when dry to carry about and, when wet, to retain spongy water-filled sustenance while collecting forest specimens to bring home to plant in her gardens. Easier to draw and paint the specimens when they are close. Easier to enjoy. As she was always wont to do. It may very well have been a favorite forest garden respite for her beside the still waters of a stream. I partly believe she may have gone deliberately to that place in the forest that day. She always had her black poodle doggy, Harper Angus McGregor, or Yippy, with her. Partially blinded, partially deaf, and the smartest dog I had seen to date when I took responsibility for him at my Uncle Jim's death. That day of her disappearance though, she left him behind at the house leashed up. An unusual practice.
There are still some uncertainties and questions about her last day. Mostly about one important factoid of evidence. For instance, she worked on a cash basis and carried cash with her. Her purse was never recovered. The one remaining fact to be ascertained. If I knew that the raccoon hunters recovered the handbag and purse but just didn't report it, then that would add to the credence of the assertion that no foul play occurred on the day of her demise. But if they truly never took the purse, then it's plausible that someone else did. Perhaps after her demise and then never mentioning it because of the scene and the money. No one would ever know if one just took the purse and left.
Or perhaps some one took it the day she died. On Social Security check day. The day she walked to her Secret Garden. The day she walked past a somewhat rough part of town to get there. The day of her demise. Maybe someone knows more. All these things and more are really another epic story.
I was so fortunate that my Mom was there to assist and to counsel with me in the ensuing months of Jim's and Elaine's passing and to have wonderful conversations with her about all sorts of things during Mom's remaining years. My Mom was Jim's little sister. Mom was Elaine's roommate in bible college. My Mom passed away in June of this year. These are my people. Some of the nearest and dearest to my heart. The most influential in my life's work and meaning.
So as I have been traversing the valley of the shadow of death these past years....
Internet Fair Use - Psalm 23
I don't really recall grieving my people. There was so much to do along the way. I have been about Duty these past years. There was my family, my children, and my employers, my employment, and unemployment. I have been working through Discomfort and Disability to understand the underlying causes. The unforeseen infirmities invoked lapses of capability that the doctors, nurses, nutritionists, wellness officers, and health advisers were not able to diagnose or remedy with their advice. I had to get that figured out on my own. Perhaps, I now understand the causes and the fixes. I have had thirty days of relative pain-free walking. I have returned to working some projects around the house. It has been an arduous mental and physical journey. A battle within the Inner Realm. The Daily Walk. For nine years.
I think it's time to grieve. And remember. And record. And consider how these things have shaped my Path over the last several years and how they should, can, or will shape my Path forward. And then continue on the Daily Walk. Living the Moment. On the Endeavor. On the Pursuit. With Chiascaro effects. And with Duty. And on all the Projects assigned to me by Executive Sponsors. On the Journey. In a strange land.
All things work together for good....
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