HELLO!

I received this email from Ralph late last night: “These are some wood products we will be offering at the Craft Sale on Saturday (9am-2pm). Bob Hamilton was a Master Turner who was very active in Woodlawn for many years. Bob’s family donated his work. Pauline has donated some of her late husband Lloyd’s carvings. These men have died but remain part of our Great Cloud of Witnesses (Hebrews 12;1)”. Later, I go to bed at 2 am, I was pondering the many gifted wood workers I have known in my 63 years. The other day I was asked, “who fixes things in your home?” The simple answer is Kim. Unlike my brothers, my grandfathers, my late father-in-law and my brother-in-law, I am not gifted with wood. Back in the day I took Industrial Arts in junior high, we made duck napkin holders and metal spice racks. My mother kept everything, and when Kim and I were married and planning to furnish our first home (a manse) I offered to get the napkin holder and spice rack. Kim looked at them and responded, “I am sure your mother would miss these if we took them.”

I do not lack self-confidence. I am not unnecessarily “putting myself down”. Rather, I am remembering my beloved late father, who was exactly the father I wanted and needed but who was not self-aware regarding his lack of “fix-it” or wood working ability. We loved him so, and thus after he would fix or make something, we waited for him to go to work to call in our grandfathers to “adjust” things. I surmised it was better to be aware of my limitations that pretend otherwise.

One matter I would like to have you ponder is this, do you know someone who is a gifted wood worker? If so, consider asking them to make you an urn, for someone you love, perhaps one day for you. My brother Scott made my mother’s urn. Chris, another brother, is an actor. He and I spoke at mom’s funeral, so I made sure the minister made a big deal about Scott’s urn. She did. When my Dad died Scott reworked a birdhouse that was especially made to look like the home we grew up in. Scott converted it into an urn, Dad’s ashes rest inside it. Both wood offerings were so appropriate to those whom we mourned and celebrated. Many families, in their deep grief, go into a funeral home showroom and pick something that looks to me like some of the Blue Mountain pottery I bought at Kresge’s for my mother on her birthday and Mother’s Day. Something made by hands that loved you, loved the one being celebrated, seems so much more meaningful. “Just saying…”

Peace, Kevin