Friday, January 30, 2009
You make my dreams come true :)
This video contains clips from my first birthday party. It was held at Alpine Baptist Church. It took a really long time, but I think that I chose the perfect clips to add to the song, which is by Hall and Oates. At the very end, you can hear Brother Larry talking as he touched my hand.
With love,
Haley
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
This is my favorite song in the world.
Lyrics
Bat your eyes girl, be otherworldly,
count your blessings, seduce a stranger
What's so wrong with being happy?
Kudos to those who see through sickness (yeah)
Over and over and over and over and ooh
(chorus)
She woke in the morning
She knew that her life had passed her by
And she called out a warning,
"Don't ever let life pass you by!"
I suggest we learn to love
ourselves before its made illegal
When will we learn? (When will we learn?)
When will we change? (When will we change?)
Just in time to see it all come down
Those left standing will make millions
writing books on the way it should have been
When she woke in the morning,
she knew that her life had passed her by
And she called out a warning (WARNING!),
"Don't ever let life pass you by!"
Floating in this cosmic jacuzzi,
we are like frogs oblivious
to the water starting to boil,
no one flinches, we all float face down
She woke in the morning
She knew that her life had passed her by
And she called out a warning,
"Don't ever let life pass you by!"
Warning by Incubus
Sunday, January 25, 2009
The Soundtrack to my Life
I love to ride around and blast music in my car when I'm feeling down. The following list contains my favorite songs to listen to when I'm down. Give them a try, if you want. If nothing else, they may tell you a lot about my personality that you would never know otherwise. They might just help you, too.
1. One Headlight- The Wallflowers
2. I'm Yours- Jason Mraz
3. I'm Gonna Be- The Proclaimers
4. How's It Gonna Be- Third Eye Blind
5. Losing My Religion- R.E.M.
6. You Get What You Give- New Radicals
7. Amber- 311
8. Blue- A Perfect Circle
9. Seize The Day- Avenged Sevenfold
10. Into The Ocean- Blue October
11. Breath- Breaking Benjamin
12. Come Together- Aerosmith
13. Glycerine- Bush
14. Panic Prone- Chevelle
15. I Get It- Chevelle
16. Clocks- Coldplay
17. Shine- Collective Soul
18. Change- Deftones
19. Slow Chemical- Finger Eleven
20. Iris- Goo Goo Dolls
21. 11 A.M.- Incubus
22. Hear You Me- Jimmy Eat World
23. I Miss You- Incubus
24. Wish You Were Here- Incubus
25. Look What You've Done- Jet
26. Heart of Life- John Mayer
27. No Such Thing- John Mayer
28. Champagne Supernova- Oasis
29. The World Spins Madly On- The Weepies
30. Black- Pearl Jam
31. Broken- Seether
32. Come Pick Me Up- Ryan Adams
33. Bother- Stone Sour
34. I Dare You To Move- Switchfoot
35. Chasing Cars- Snow Patrol
36. Wasteland- 10 Years
37. Blue and Yellow- The Used
38. Headstrong- Trapt
39. Lie in the Sound- Trespassers William
40. Wish You Were Here- Pink Floyd
These are my favorite songs. They have helped me get through many hard times. :) After writing the previous post earlier today, I decided that I needed to write about something that makes me happy. These songs make me happy.
XOXO,
HLT
1. One Headlight- The Wallflowers
2. I'm Yours- Jason Mraz
3. I'm Gonna Be- The Proclaimers
4. How's It Gonna Be- Third Eye Blind
5. Losing My Religion- R.E.M.
6. You Get What You Give- New Radicals
7. Amber- 311
8. Blue- A Perfect Circle
9. Seize The Day- Avenged Sevenfold
10. Into The Ocean- Blue October
11. Breath- Breaking Benjamin
12. Come Together- Aerosmith
13. Glycerine- Bush
14. Panic Prone- Chevelle
15. I Get It- Chevelle
16. Clocks- Coldplay
17. Shine- Collective Soul
18. Change- Deftones
19. Slow Chemical- Finger Eleven
20. Iris- Goo Goo Dolls
21. 11 A.M.- Incubus
22. Hear You Me- Jimmy Eat World
23. I Miss You- Incubus
24. Wish You Were Here- Incubus
25. Look What You've Done- Jet
26. Heart of Life- John Mayer
27. No Such Thing- John Mayer
28. Champagne Supernova- Oasis
29. The World Spins Madly On- The Weepies
30. Black- Pearl Jam
31. Broken- Seether
32. Come Pick Me Up- Ryan Adams
33. Bother- Stone Sour
34. I Dare You To Move- Switchfoot
35. Chasing Cars- Snow Patrol
36. Wasteland- 10 Years
37. Blue and Yellow- The Used
38. Headstrong- Trapt
39. Lie in the Sound- Trespassers William
40. Wish You Were Here- Pink Floyd
These are my favorite songs. They have helped me get through many hard times. :) After writing the previous post earlier today, I decided that I needed to write about something that makes me happy. These songs make me happy.
XOXO,
HLT
ACCEPTANCE.
"People fear death even more than pain. It's strange that they fear death. Life hurts a lot more than death. At the point of death, the pain is over."
Jim Morrison
I accept that he's gone. I do this because I have no other choice. Death is not something that can be avoided, nor should it be. It is the end of one life, and the beginning of a life in a place much more wonderful than this. There are no wars there. There is no poverty, hunger, anger, or pain. There is no regret, hate, or worry. I accepted long ago that this place existed. However, I found it hard to accept that the people that I love will make the transition from here to there. I have never feared my own death. I have never seen death as something to be afraid of. I know where I'm going when I die. I know the contents of my heart. The problem that I have is one caused by pure selfishness. I do not want to give away those who I love. When it comes to accepting death, children seem to have an understanding that adults do not. When Wayne passed away, I was 5. I did not understand, and I asked my mom where he went. She said, "He went to Heaven." That answer was enough for me. I felt special because I knew someone who was in Heaven. When Lisa passed away, I was not much older, but I still found comfort knowing that she was with Wayne. Oh, he loved her so much. I was at peace. Through the years, I saw many people go to Heaven. There was Iva, followed by Belton. As a child, that made sense to me. I wanted them to be together. Granny Smith passed away, and I was glad to know that she was in a place where pain did not exist. I lost my Grandfather when I was 7, and I understood. The years passed by, and I started to have a different view of death. We lost Seth, Tabitha, Jason, John, Grant, and Sharon all within a 4 year span. These were people that were my age, and I no longer saw the peaceful side of death. I was not afraid of it, but I certainly hated it. I was growing up, and I lost the innocence that only children can have. The world that we live in is a cruel one, and it takes a toil on our souls each year that we are here. As we grow older, we are told that we will gain knowledge and wisdom. But, not much is said about what we lose. Children are seen as gullible. If you tell them that something is true, they believe it. They do not feel the need to analyze each detail, searching for flaws and errors. They are innocent, and when they love someone or something, it is a love that is pure and without motive. The bond between God and children is strong, because it is without doubt or question. As a 21 year old, I wonder when I stopped having the blind faith that children are known for. I remember the songs we sang in Vacation Bible School that had lyrics such as, "Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world..." In times like this, maybe we should stop worrying about acting like adults and let whatever childish thoughts we may have be the ones that matter the most. Maybe we should let a tiny bit of that blind faith come back into our lives.
Like I said, I accept this because I have no other choice. There are many things that we, as human beings, cannot control. We are not meant to have control over these things, because they are, and always will be, beyond our realm of understanding. When I do understand these things, it will be because my time has come to leave this earth. I accept this fact, and I will no longer waste my days here wondering "why?" It is not my time to know the answer, and I accept that with ease.
Maybe the stage of acceptance that I have reached is not conventional, but it is real. I feel it with every ounce of my being. Most of the stages will repeat, and I accept that, too. I will still be angry sometimes. I am still grieving. I may catch myself in denial at times. All of this is normal, and I cannot punish myself for feeling the way that I do. All that I can do is accept the past, embrace the present, and prepare myself for whatever the future has in store for me.
"...Thy Kingdom come
Thy will be done
on Earth as it is in Heaven..."
Love,
Haley
"Death is nothing at all,
I have only slipped away into the next room,
I am I and you are you;
Whatever we were to each other, That we still are.
Call me by my old familiar name,
Speak to me in the easy way which you always used,
Put no difference in your tone,
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we shared together.
Let my name ever be the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effect, without the trace of a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant,
It is the same as it ever was, there is unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner.
All is well. "
Henry Scott Holland, Canon of St. Paul's Cathedral
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
Shel Silverstein, Where The Sidewalk Ends
Jim Morrison
I accept that he's gone. I do this because I have no other choice. Death is not something that can be avoided, nor should it be. It is the end of one life, and the beginning of a life in a place much more wonderful than this. There are no wars there. There is no poverty, hunger, anger, or pain. There is no regret, hate, or worry. I accepted long ago that this place existed. However, I found it hard to accept that the people that I love will make the transition from here to there. I have never feared my own death. I have never seen death as something to be afraid of. I know where I'm going when I die. I know the contents of my heart. The problem that I have is one caused by pure selfishness. I do not want to give away those who I love. When it comes to accepting death, children seem to have an understanding that adults do not. When Wayne passed away, I was 5. I did not understand, and I asked my mom where he went. She said, "He went to Heaven." That answer was enough for me. I felt special because I knew someone who was in Heaven. When Lisa passed away, I was not much older, but I still found comfort knowing that she was with Wayne. Oh, he loved her so much. I was at peace. Through the years, I saw many people go to Heaven. There was Iva, followed by Belton. As a child, that made sense to me. I wanted them to be together. Granny Smith passed away, and I was glad to know that she was in a place where pain did not exist. I lost my Grandfather when I was 7, and I understood. The years passed by, and I started to have a different view of death. We lost Seth, Tabitha, Jason, John, Grant, and Sharon all within a 4 year span. These were people that were my age, and I no longer saw the peaceful side of death. I was not afraid of it, but I certainly hated it. I was growing up, and I lost the innocence that only children can have. The world that we live in is a cruel one, and it takes a toil on our souls each year that we are here. As we grow older, we are told that we will gain knowledge and wisdom. But, not much is said about what we lose. Children are seen as gullible. If you tell them that something is true, they believe it. They do not feel the need to analyze each detail, searching for flaws and errors. They are innocent, and when they love someone or something, it is a love that is pure and without motive. The bond between God and children is strong, because it is without doubt or question. As a 21 year old, I wonder when I stopped having the blind faith that children are known for. I remember the songs we sang in Vacation Bible School that had lyrics such as, "Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world..." In times like this, maybe we should stop worrying about acting like adults and let whatever childish thoughts we may have be the ones that matter the most. Maybe we should let a tiny bit of that blind faith come back into our lives.
Like I said, I accept this because I have no other choice. There are many things that we, as human beings, cannot control. We are not meant to have control over these things, because they are, and always will be, beyond our realm of understanding. When I do understand these things, it will be because my time has come to leave this earth. I accept this fact, and I will no longer waste my days here wondering "why?" It is not my time to know the answer, and I accept that with ease.
Maybe the stage of acceptance that I have reached is not conventional, but it is real. I feel it with every ounce of my being. Most of the stages will repeat, and I accept that, too. I will still be angry sometimes. I am still grieving. I may catch myself in denial at times. All of this is normal, and I cannot punish myself for feeling the way that I do. All that I can do is accept the past, embrace the present, and prepare myself for whatever the future has in store for me.
"...Thy Kingdom come
Thy will be done
on Earth as it is in Heaven..."
Love,
Haley
"Death is nothing at all,
I have only slipped away into the next room,
I am I and you are you;
Whatever we were to each other, That we still are.
Call me by my old familiar name,
Speak to me in the easy way which you always used,
Put no difference in your tone,
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we shared together.
Let my name ever be the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effect, without the trace of a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant,
It is the same as it ever was, there is unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner.
All is well. "
Henry Scott Holland, Canon of St. Paul's Cathedral
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
Shel Silverstein, Where The Sidewalk Ends
Saturday, January 10, 2009
GRIEF.
Today, I learned the greatest lesson of them all.
The learning began last night as I pulled into the parking lot of the most beautiful church in the world. I saw our parking lot packed with cars, even though the viewing would not begin for another thirty minutes. As I got out of my car, my jaw dropped. There was a line of people that began at the front porch and went all the way to our church sign. These people were standing in the cold, hugging each other, crying, and passing out tissues. As I walked by the line, I heard numerous compliments about my dear friend, and I prepared myself to be strong and keep my emotions under control. Members of our church always go through the back door in situations like this. It reminded me of how many people, in their homes, use the back door more often than the front door. However, when we have guests in our homes, we expect them to use the front door. Of course, our close friends can use whichever door they wish. As I’ve grown to learn, some friendships are so strong and so full of love that they become family. I think that we all use the back door at the church because to many of us, it feels like home. People enjoy being at home because they can be their true selves there. People feel safe at home. People feel loved at home. Many of us have found those same comforts in Alpine Baptist Church. It just feels like home. We are more than a congregation. We are a family. We have a bond that is unbreakable, unconditional, and extremely rare. This bond was created, nurtured, and strengthened by love. The love that our church family shares is one that knows no boundaries. This love can overcome all obstacles. This love will last far longer than a lifetime, and will continue to be passed down from generation to generation. This love has become a part of who we are, both as a whole and as individuals. In the smallest, most sacred place in Brother Larry’s heart, you could find an abundance of this love. Because all of his sermons came directly from his heart, tiny pieces of this love were passed to each of us by his words of wisdom. Over the years, some people have hearts so filled with this love that their hearts have to expand in order to make room for more. This would explain the big heart phenomenon in our church. This love began in the heart of a wonderful man and his devotion to teaching about God and His word.
As I walked up the stairs to enter the fellowship hall, I took a deep breath and told myself to keep it together. However, as soon as I walked in, I saw the faces of the people who mean the most to me in the world. I saw Aunt Lou, and I immediately hugged her. The tears were streaming down my face, and I could not stop shaking. I turned around and saw Patsy, and she opened her arms to me. I sobbed on her shoulder, and she just held me. Beside Patsy was Mary Beth, who can read me like a book. Before I knew it, I was crying in her arms, too. Last in line, there was my Gail. She is the strongest person I know, and she is one of the people I hold dearest to my heart. I wept as we hugged, and I found myself wishing that I had half of the strength as she did. I know that if she could have passed on some of that strength to me, she would have done it in a heartbeat. That is the type of person that Gail is. In fact, that is the type of person that many members of our church are. These wonderful women that I’ve known for my entire life knew exactly how to give me comfort. They opened their arms and their hearts, and they stayed strong when I couldn’t. I do not know what I would have done if they had not been the first people that I saw when I arrived. As I walked to the sanctuary, the love and comfort they gave me wrapped around me like a blanket from my childhood. It kept me warm, and I felt safe.
I entered the sanctuary, and while I was hesitant, I decided that I had to have a glance in the casket, just to make sure that this was, without a doubt, real. What I saw, though, did not make me as upset as I thought it might. I took one look at the face I’ve seen so many times over the past 21 years, and I knew that the man I admired so much had left his body long before. The Brother Larry that I remember always wore a smile on his face. It was one of those smiles that touched anyone’s heart who saw it. His eyes would crinkle, and the laugh lines on his face were his most beautiful feature. He had the type of laugh that could fill a room in a matter of seconds. It was one of my favorite sounds to hear, and many times, it was like music to my ears. This is how I will always remember him.
Standing by the pew that was once occupied by Wayne Joiner was Mrs. Ann. She looked beautiful. I made my way over to her, and by the time she turned around, big salty tears covered my face. We hugged for a long time, and I realized that I had forgotten how good it was to hug her. When I think of Mrs. Ann, I remember how I admired the way she held the hymnal as we stood during church when I was younger. She did not sing the words, but there was something about the way she stood that I found to be graceful and elegant. After Samantha was born, she did begin to sing the hymns, and although she often held a baby in one arm, she still held the book in the other, just as she always had. In our modern day society, it is extremely rare to find a lady like Mrs. Ann unless it is in a book about true southern belles. She was Larry’s perfect counterpart. As we all know, he often sang much louder than the rest of the choir. Actually, most of what he did and/or said was louder than everybody else. On the other hand, Mrs. Ann rarely raises her voice. She communicates in other, more subtle ways. Her voice is soft, polite, and comforting. He often mentioned things about Mrs. Ann in his sermons, and it was obvious to anyone who knew him just how much he loved her. Sometimes, when I was younger, I would see them catch each other’s eye during a hymn or his sermon, and they would both smile. They were perfect for each other, and even as a child, I saw that. Last night, after we hugged, Mrs. Ann said, “He loved you. He was so proud of you. We’re all going to be okay.” And, as I looked her in the eyes, I saw that she really believed what she said. If I’ve learned anything over the years, it is that Mrs. Ann does not say things that she does not mean. She’s the wisest person I know, and I hope she knows how much I love her.
As I walked to the other side of the church, I saw Terry Roberson sitting with his family. He is another person that I have always admired. He is brilliant, kind, and a wonderful teacher. God gave him the gift to touch others as he teaches them, and this is exactly what he has done. When I saw him last night, I could see the pain in his eyes. I went over to him, and just as I did with all the others, I lost it as soon as he hugged me. I could feel his despair. He and Brother Larry could have easily passed as brothers. They had a special bond, a real friendship, and an understanding of each other that most people do not have. To see Terry so heartbroken made me look at him in a completely different light, and I saw strength in him that I’d never noticed before. I have never admired him more than I did last night. He is such an important part of this church and the family we’ve created inside of it, as are his parents and siblings. He always carries himself with class, and even in his darkest hour, he had a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
The last person whose shoulder I cried on last night was Neva. I can see so much of Brother Larry and Mrs. Ann in her. Like her dad, Neva has a wonderful laugh. She laughs often, and she spreads her optimism to all those around her with a smile on her face. The words she said as I hugged her sounded exactly like the advice given to me by Brother Larry when I came to him as I recovered from the death of one of my classmates. I asked her how she held it together so well, and she said, “It’s not me.” Those three words were of great comfort to me, because I felt as if somewhere along the way, she found reason to hope, laugh, and be strong. That is exactly what her dad would have done. She is also a lot like her mom. She is kind, gentle, and knows how to act like a lady. She worries about the feelings of others, and she goes out of her way to help others find comfort and peace. Like her mother, she is a fantastic teacher, and she pours her heart into her classroom and her students. Her positive attitude soothed the worries of many of the people who were there last night. I hope she knows how proud her dad would be of her.
I stayed at the visitation for over three hours. For several days, I had been unable to explain how I felt about everything. I was confused, and I did not discuss it with anybody, because I did not think I could ever describe Brother Larry and do him justice. Sometimes, people got confused when I talked about him in the past. I think they were thrown off by the description “my pastor, who is also a defense lawyer and a democrat”. Not only does that description leave off half of his many careers, but it does not explain who he was as a person. It cannot be put into words, honestly. If I even tried, I’m not sure that anybody would believe it. There are not many people around like him. He was one of a kind. Although one Larry Morris was wonderful, I’m convinced that if two Larry Morris’s existed, they could have easily conquered the world. I walked around the church for a long time, and I just looked around. All I could think about was how much I’d been missing that place. Alpine Baptist Church is my favorite place in the world, and I am who I am because of the family I have within those walls, as well as the lessons I’ve learned there.
I could not get any sort of sleep last night, so I sat up and thought. I thought about all of the faces I saw earlier that night, and how fast the years have flown by. I remembered how, as a child, I would mimic Patsy's arm movements as she directed the music. I remembered how I admired how beautiful Louanne looked as she played the piano, and it influenced me to take piano lessons for many years. I remembered being amazed as I watched Mary play the organ, and I was always proud to say that she was my great-aunt. I caught myself wishing that I could go back in time for a day or two. Our Sunday school room would be by the old kitchen, and Wayne would come and give me Hershey kisses, even though my mom told him not to. Then, I’d travel to the Christmas Eve Midnight Mass when we knocked over the memory candles and the table went up in flames. I would go to the Easter Egg Hunts, Vacation Bible School, and trips in the old church bus. The tennis courts would still be up, and the men would still have a softball team. Dr. Phil would remind me every Sunday that he was, and always will be, much cooler that I am. Aunt Lou would have the Mickey Mouse watch that played music, many times during church. The last stop on this time travel trip would be to any Sunday that we sang “Lily of the Valley”, just to hear Brother Larry sing the loud part that we all found hilarious. Oh, I’d go back in a heartbeat. I’d relive it all if I could. Because of this church, I have never had a day in my life that I didn’t feel loved.
Today, John delivered a beautiful message. I do not think anybody could have done a better job. We laughed, we cried, and we remembered a man who touched our hearts for so many years. We sang “Victory in Jesus”, I couldn’t help but cry when I heard Patsy sing. I’ve never heard her sing so beautifully. She looked like an angel. When I closed my eyes, I could almost hear Brother Larry chiming in with the rest of the congregation. As John said his closing statements, he reminded us that the sun would shine through the clouds. At that exact moment, sunlight filled the entire Sanctuary, and chills ran up my spine. I could feel his presence. I looked around, and I could see that many others were thinking the same thing as I. Brother Larry always did like to make a noticeable entrance, but none was ever as beautiful as this.
Like I said, I learned an important lesson today. Brother Larry spent his entire life loving and laughing, and all you ever really need to know is to always love and laugh.
"Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one's life for his friends."
John 15:13
The learning began last night as I pulled into the parking lot of the most beautiful church in the world. I saw our parking lot packed with cars, even though the viewing would not begin for another thirty minutes. As I got out of my car, my jaw dropped. There was a line of people that began at the front porch and went all the way to our church sign. These people were standing in the cold, hugging each other, crying, and passing out tissues. As I walked by the line, I heard numerous compliments about my dear friend, and I prepared myself to be strong and keep my emotions under control. Members of our church always go through the back door in situations like this. It reminded me of how many people, in their homes, use the back door more often than the front door. However, when we have guests in our homes, we expect them to use the front door. Of course, our close friends can use whichever door they wish. As I’ve grown to learn, some friendships are so strong and so full of love that they become family. I think that we all use the back door at the church because to many of us, it feels like home. People enjoy being at home because they can be their true selves there. People feel safe at home. People feel loved at home. Many of us have found those same comforts in Alpine Baptist Church. It just feels like home. We are more than a congregation. We are a family. We have a bond that is unbreakable, unconditional, and extremely rare. This bond was created, nurtured, and strengthened by love. The love that our church family shares is one that knows no boundaries. This love can overcome all obstacles. This love will last far longer than a lifetime, and will continue to be passed down from generation to generation. This love has become a part of who we are, both as a whole and as individuals. In the smallest, most sacred place in Brother Larry’s heart, you could find an abundance of this love. Because all of his sermons came directly from his heart, tiny pieces of this love were passed to each of us by his words of wisdom. Over the years, some people have hearts so filled with this love that their hearts have to expand in order to make room for more. This would explain the big heart phenomenon in our church. This love began in the heart of a wonderful man and his devotion to teaching about God and His word.
As I walked up the stairs to enter the fellowship hall, I took a deep breath and told myself to keep it together. However, as soon as I walked in, I saw the faces of the people who mean the most to me in the world. I saw Aunt Lou, and I immediately hugged her. The tears were streaming down my face, and I could not stop shaking. I turned around and saw Patsy, and she opened her arms to me. I sobbed on her shoulder, and she just held me. Beside Patsy was Mary Beth, who can read me like a book. Before I knew it, I was crying in her arms, too. Last in line, there was my Gail. She is the strongest person I know, and she is one of the people I hold dearest to my heart. I wept as we hugged, and I found myself wishing that I had half of the strength as she did. I know that if she could have passed on some of that strength to me, she would have done it in a heartbeat. That is the type of person that Gail is. In fact, that is the type of person that many members of our church are. These wonderful women that I’ve known for my entire life knew exactly how to give me comfort. They opened their arms and their hearts, and they stayed strong when I couldn’t. I do not know what I would have done if they had not been the first people that I saw when I arrived. As I walked to the sanctuary, the love and comfort they gave me wrapped around me like a blanket from my childhood. It kept me warm, and I felt safe.
I entered the sanctuary, and while I was hesitant, I decided that I had to have a glance in the casket, just to make sure that this was, without a doubt, real. What I saw, though, did not make me as upset as I thought it might. I took one look at the face I’ve seen so many times over the past 21 years, and I knew that the man I admired so much had left his body long before. The Brother Larry that I remember always wore a smile on his face. It was one of those smiles that touched anyone’s heart who saw it. His eyes would crinkle, and the laugh lines on his face were his most beautiful feature. He had the type of laugh that could fill a room in a matter of seconds. It was one of my favorite sounds to hear, and many times, it was like music to my ears. This is how I will always remember him.
Standing by the pew that was once occupied by Wayne Joiner was Mrs. Ann. She looked beautiful. I made my way over to her, and by the time she turned around, big salty tears covered my face. We hugged for a long time, and I realized that I had forgotten how good it was to hug her. When I think of Mrs. Ann, I remember how I admired the way she held the hymnal as we stood during church when I was younger. She did not sing the words, but there was something about the way she stood that I found to be graceful and elegant. After Samantha was born, she did begin to sing the hymns, and although she often held a baby in one arm, she still held the book in the other, just as she always had. In our modern day society, it is extremely rare to find a lady like Mrs. Ann unless it is in a book about true southern belles. She was Larry’s perfect counterpart. As we all know, he often sang much louder than the rest of the choir. Actually, most of what he did and/or said was louder than everybody else. On the other hand, Mrs. Ann rarely raises her voice. She communicates in other, more subtle ways. Her voice is soft, polite, and comforting. He often mentioned things about Mrs. Ann in his sermons, and it was obvious to anyone who knew him just how much he loved her. Sometimes, when I was younger, I would see them catch each other’s eye during a hymn or his sermon, and they would both smile. They were perfect for each other, and even as a child, I saw that. Last night, after we hugged, Mrs. Ann said, “He loved you. He was so proud of you. We’re all going to be okay.” And, as I looked her in the eyes, I saw that she really believed what she said. If I’ve learned anything over the years, it is that Mrs. Ann does not say things that she does not mean. She’s the wisest person I know, and I hope she knows how much I love her.
As I walked to the other side of the church, I saw Terry Roberson sitting with his family. He is another person that I have always admired. He is brilliant, kind, and a wonderful teacher. God gave him the gift to touch others as he teaches them, and this is exactly what he has done. When I saw him last night, I could see the pain in his eyes. I went over to him, and just as I did with all the others, I lost it as soon as he hugged me. I could feel his despair. He and Brother Larry could have easily passed as brothers. They had a special bond, a real friendship, and an understanding of each other that most people do not have. To see Terry so heartbroken made me look at him in a completely different light, and I saw strength in him that I’d never noticed before. I have never admired him more than I did last night. He is such an important part of this church and the family we’ve created inside of it, as are his parents and siblings. He always carries himself with class, and even in his darkest hour, he had a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
The last person whose shoulder I cried on last night was Neva. I can see so much of Brother Larry and Mrs. Ann in her. Like her dad, Neva has a wonderful laugh. She laughs often, and she spreads her optimism to all those around her with a smile on her face. The words she said as I hugged her sounded exactly like the advice given to me by Brother Larry when I came to him as I recovered from the death of one of my classmates. I asked her how she held it together so well, and she said, “It’s not me.” Those three words were of great comfort to me, because I felt as if somewhere along the way, she found reason to hope, laugh, and be strong. That is exactly what her dad would have done. She is also a lot like her mom. She is kind, gentle, and knows how to act like a lady. She worries about the feelings of others, and she goes out of her way to help others find comfort and peace. Like her mother, she is a fantastic teacher, and she pours her heart into her classroom and her students. Her positive attitude soothed the worries of many of the people who were there last night. I hope she knows how proud her dad would be of her.
I stayed at the visitation for over three hours. For several days, I had been unable to explain how I felt about everything. I was confused, and I did not discuss it with anybody, because I did not think I could ever describe Brother Larry and do him justice. Sometimes, people got confused when I talked about him in the past. I think they were thrown off by the description “my pastor, who is also a defense lawyer and a democrat”. Not only does that description leave off half of his many careers, but it does not explain who he was as a person. It cannot be put into words, honestly. If I even tried, I’m not sure that anybody would believe it. There are not many people around like him. He was one of a kind. Although one Larry Morris was wonderful, I’m convinced that if two Larry Morris’s existed, they could have easily conquered the world. I walked around the church for a long time, and I just looked around. All I could think about was how much I’d been missing that place. Alpine Baptist Church is my favorite place in the world, and I am who I am because of the family I have within those walls, as well as the lessons I’ve learned there.
I could not get any sort of sleep last night, so I sat up and thought. I thought about all of the faces I saw earlier that night, and how fast the years have flown by. I remembered how, as a child, I would mimic Patsy's arm movements as she directed the music. I remembered how I admired how beautiful Louanne looked as she played the piano, and it influenced me to take piano lessons for many years. I remembered being amazed as I watched Mary play the organ, and I was always proud to say that she was my great-aunt. I caught myself wishing that I could go back in time for a day or two. Our Sunday school room would be by the old kitchen, and Wayne would come and give me Hershey kisses, even though my mom told him not to. Then, I’d travel to the Christmas Eve Midnight Mass when we knocked over the memory candles and the table went up in flames. I would go to the Easter Egg Hunts, Vacation Bible School, and trips in the old church bus. The tennis courts would still be up, and the men would still have a softball team. Dr. Phil would remind me every Sunday that he was, and always will be, much cooler that I am. Aunt Lou would have the Mickey Mouse watch that played music, many times during church. The last stop on this time travel trip would be to any Sunday that we sang “Lily of the Valley”, just to hear Brother Larry sing the loud part that we all found hilarious. Oh, I’d go back in a heartbeat. I’d relive it all if I could. Because of this church, I have never had a day in my life that I didn’t feel loved.
Today, John delivered a beautiful message. I do not think anybody could have done a better job. We laughed, we cried, and we remembered a man who touched our hearts for so many years. We sang “Victory in Jesus”, I couldn’t help but cry when I heard Patsy sing. I’ve never heard her sing so beautifully. She looked like an angel. When I closed my eyes, I could almost hear Brother Larry chiming in with the rest of the congregation. As John said his closing statements, he reminded us that the sun would shine through the clouds. At that exact moment, sunlight filled the entire Sanctuary, and chills ran up my spine. I could feel his presence. I looked around, and I could see that many others were thinking the same thing as I. Brother Larry always did like to make a noticeable entrance, but none was ever as beautiful as this.
Like I said, I learned an important lesson today. Brother Larry spent his entire life loving and laughing, and all you ever really need to know is to always love and laugh.
"Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one's life for his friends."
John 15:13
Thursday, January 8, 2009
BARGAINING.
Trying to bargain with God is ridiculous. Those who do it are already aware of the fact that no amount of bargaining is enough to change what has already happened, as well as every single thing that will ever happen in the future. The thing about bargaining is that those who do it always make sure they have a safety net. Bargainers always offer their second favorite everything. Bargaining is what people begin to do when they have no other reasons for hope. We bargain at our darkest moments, and the more we do it, the harder it becomes to see clearly. Anyone who reads this already knew these facts before I wrote them. However, even though we're aware of what it is we're doing, we still do it anyway. As humans, we crave hope in forms of glimpses and ounces, people and books, and dreams and memories. When we can't find it there, we remember that one of the hardest facts of life is the one that reminds us that we can't have it all at once. Sometimes, we are not in control. In some place, far away from here, our worldly possesions aren't worth very much at all. However, this does not stop us from attempting to bargain them all away in order to receive something that we just cannot give up and live without.
It is all very sad, really. If we made these bargains in times other than our darkest moments, they might actually be possible.
Today, I listened to one of my favorite songs over and over again. I feel music in my bones, and I soak in the lyrics. On certain days, particular songs just feel right. This one felt right today.
"Restless tonight
Cause I wasted the light
Between both these times
I drew a really thin line
It’s nothing I planned
And not that I can
But you should be mine
Across that line
[Chorus:]
If I traded it all
If I gave it all away for one thing
Just for one thing
If I sorted it out
If I knew all about this one thing
Wouldn’t that be something
I promise I might
Not walk on by
Maybe next time
But not this time
Even though I know
I don’t want to know
Yeah I guess I know
I just hate how it sounds"
-"One Thing" by Finger Eleven
After a few days of fighting back tears, I know that I may not do very well when trying to keep it together tomorrow and Saturday. I'm going to let myself cry. I'm going to let myself feel human. I'm going to hurt, but I'm going to let it flow through me like rain. It brings me back to the ground, this pain, and it reminds me of all of the wonders that come when I allow my soul to just feel alive. I'd rather feel despair than nothing at all.
On we go.
It is all very sad, really. If we made these bargains in times other than our darkest moments, they might actually be possible.
Today, I listened to one of my favorite songs over and over again. I feel music in my bones, and I soak in the lyrics. On certain days, particular songs just feel right. This one felt right today.
"Restless tonight
Cause I wasted the light
Between both these times
I drew a really thin line
It’s nothing I planned
And not that I can
But you should be mine
Across that line
[Chorus:]
If I traded it all
If I gave it all away for one thing
Just for one thing
If I sorted it out
If I knew all about this one thing
Wouldn’t that be something
I promise I might
Not walk on by
Maybe next time
But not this time
Even though I know
I don’t want to know
Yeah I guess I know
I just hate how it sounds"
-"One Thing" by Finger Eleven
After a few days of fighting back tears, I know that I may not do very well when trying to keep it together tomorrow and Saturday. I'm going to let myself cry. I'm going to let myself feel human. I'm going to hurt, but I'm going to let it flow through me like rain. It brings me back to the ground, this pain, and it reminds me of all of the wonders that come when I allow my soul to just feel alive. I'd rather feel despair than nothing at all.
On we go.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
ANGER.
"The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep."
I'm not angry with you. I'm angry with myself. I'm angry that, once again, I'm going through a list of regrets that seems too near to never ending for me to find any hope in it at all. I'm angry with the concept of change. I'm angry for having no choice other than admitting that there is absolutely nothing that I can do to make this go away. I'm angry that when I picture you, I can only picture you as a hero. I'm angry for not understanding that you, too, were a human being. I'm angry for being selfish, and wondering why I've had to go through this so many times. I'm angry that people have to leave. I'm angry that a perfect world does not exist, nor will it ever. I'm angry at myself for even being angry in the first place. See, I could never be angry with you for anything. Your heart was made of gold.
You carried our pain, always. You took a load off of the weight of our burdens. You opened our hearts and poured in messages of hope. I'm angry that somewhere along the line, we may have stopped doing those things for you.
I took a long shower earlier. After my normal shower routine, instead of getting out and drying off, I sat in the bottom of the bathtub and let water run down my entire body. I pulled my legs up to my chest, held them with my arms, and cried harder than I ever thought I could. I thought I was stronger than that, and finding out that I'm not just made me even more angry.
I thought about how badly I wanted to talk to you again. But, I have 21 years worth of your words to think back on. We talked about death, you and I, and you helped me find peace with the passing of many of my friends. Without you even being here, I feel like I already know what you would say. I'll never forget what you taught me. I'll never stop thinking that I still have so much more to learn.
I don't want to be angry. I want to find solace. That church has been my only source of peace for my entire life. It was my safe place. It was my second home for so many years, and I feel as if the majority of my childhood was spent there. You were the heart of that church, and nobody will ever be able to fill your shoes.
You're still my hero.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep."
I'm not angry with you. I'm angry with myself. I'm angry that, once again, I'm going through a list of regrets that seems too near to never ending for me to find any hope in it at all. I'm angry with the concept of change. I'm angry for having no choice other than admitting that there is absolutely nothing that I can do to make this go away. I'm angry that when I picture you, I can only picture you as a hero. I'm angry for not understanding that you, too, were a human being. I'm angry for being selfish, and wondering why I've had to go through this so many times. I'm angry that people have to leave. I'm angry that a perfect world does not exist, nor will it ever. I'm angry at myself for even being angry in the first place. See, I could never be angry with you for anything. Your heart was made of gold.
You carried our pain, always. You took a load off of the weight of our burdens. You opened our hearts and poured in messages of hope. I'm angry that somewhere along the line, we may have stopped doing those things for you.
I took a long shower earlier. After my normal shower routine, instead of getting out and drying off, I sat in the bottom of the bathtub and let water run down my entire body. I pulled my legs up to my chest, held them with my arms, and cried harder than I ever thought I could. I thought I was stronger than that, and finding out that I'm not just made me even more angry.
I thought about how badly I wanted to talk to you again. But, I have 21 years worth of your words to think back on. We talked about death, you and I, and you helped me find peace with the passing of many of my friends. Without you even being here, I feel like I already know what you would say. I'll never forget what you taught me. I'll never stop thinking that I still have so much more to learn.
I don't want to be angry. I want to find solace. That church has been my only source of peace for my entire life. It was my safe place. It was my second home for so many years, and I feel as if the majority of my childhood was spent there. You were the heart of that church, and nobody will ever be able to fill your shoes.
You're still my hero.
DENIAL.
Sometimes, when I'm upset, I like to get in my car and drive. I roll down the windows, blast the music, and feel the wind in my hair. As I sat up all night, I wanted more than anything to just hop in my car, fly down the highway, and drive away my worries. With any luck, a gust of wind could pick up my car and I could drive into the sky until I reached a place where this all made sense. I'd wake up. It would have all been a dream: the phone call, the crying, and the night drive into the sky. And, I would breathe in a sigh of relief. This was my plan. Surely, this would work.
Today, I woke up after an hour of dreamless sleep, and the nightmare was not a nightmare at all. It really happened. I can close my eyes and hear his laugh. I can open my eyes and see what a lifetime of love has done. Eyes open or closed, he's there.
I don't understand why. I hope I never do. I never want this to make sense to me. I never want to understand that kind of pain and despair. It doesn't seem real, and for that, I'm thankful. That's when it gets hard, you know? The minute you understand that it is real, there is no going back.
And, the stages begin.
Today, I woke up after an hour of dreamless sleep, and the nightmare was not a nightmare at all. It really happened. I can close my eyes and hear his laugh. I can open my eyes and see what a lifetime of love has done. Eyes open or closed, he's there.
I don't understand why. I hope I never do. I never want this to make sense to me. I never want to understand that kind of pain and despair. It doesn't seem real, and for that, I'm thankful. That's when it gets hard, you know? The minute you understand that it is real, there is no going back.
And, the stages begin.
Friday, January 2, 2009
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