HELLO!

This morning Kim and I went to the Hubbards Market. Kim bought fresh vegetables and baked goods, I bought an Americano and sat on a bench outside. The weather was perfect, lots of people of all ages. Hubbards attracts, in the summer, cottage people (from the city) and locals alike. It’s a short drive from our home and afterwards, we visit with Kim’s brother and his family (Queensland). As I sat on the bench my mind was still swirling from the 37-minute YouTube video I had watched the night before. One of the podcasts I watch, semi-regularly, is Nothing Personal with David Samson. Samson is a former pro sport President (Expos and Marlins). He typically shares the perspective of the business of pro sport teams. I like his candor, though he does rub many the wrong way. On this show, likely his last for some time, he talks about his grief, his 24 year old daughter died from brain cancer one month ago. The reflection was raw, thoughtful, and unresolved in his search for answers. Here it is: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i_aPqQNvRYY Interesting, he has just left to walk the Camino de Santiago in hopes of finding a way forward.

One part of that video has stuck with me, it came from another one of Samson’s adult children who asked the question, “can you name all of your eight great-grand parents”? I pondered this, and could only name one, Tommy Little. https://nsshf.com/inductee/tommy-little/ I suspect I can only remember my father’s grandfather because I have the framed image of him that is found at the Nova Scotia Sports Hall of Fame. I never met any of these eight great-grandparents, and I was never told a story about any of them, though I know my mother’s grandmother (on her mother’s side) was born in Scotland. What Samson’s daughter was trying to say is…the chances her sister will be remembered beyond another 100 years is minimal. That is sobering but it does put life in perspective. And it also reminds me why I am so drawn to stories. The people I remember most are those whose stories have stayed with me. When I ask people, at a funeral home, as we plan a Celebration of Life for their loved ones, to tell me some stories about their father/mother/wife/husband they will sometimes look quizzically at me. “What do you mean stories, all you need to know is she was a wonderful mother, the best ever, no one ever said a bad word about her”. I get that but here’s the thing, the likelihood we remember our loved ones, five years, ten years, later depends more on the stories we tell about them, than familiar expressions, “she was the best mother ever”. I once had a colleague who would focus his funeral sermons on “re-membering”, that is re-connecting to our “Cloud of Witnesses” (Hebrews 12:1). Stories take us there. I wish my parents had shared with me stories about my great grandparents.

Peace, Kevin