A Service of One

First my cousin Ricky Hinley died. He was just two months younger than me. Then my cousin Rick Donelly passed on and he was born just four weeks after me. Over the weekend the Grim Reaper claimed Ricky's baby sister Sherry Baker.

It makes you wonder.

I don't see how it helps any Divine Plan though certainly people will quickly tell me it will be revealed when God is ready. I don't find this comforting at all. It's more like passing the buck.

We're taught that God is love but I find little of it when motherless children are left behind or an already wounded Grandmother suddenly has new kids to raise.

This is when religion has its best chance to demonstrate its validity. Family, friends and believers can all come together offering love, tears and community. Hopefully, this is what happens though I've seen my fair share of really shitty funerals where love is fake, conversation is the prize and everybody just prays for it to be over.

You can never be certain which religion is going to show up.

Beside me is a towel Dad gave me before he died. He passed on his love of cooking to me, especially on the grill, and he used the towel to wipe the sweat away. It's white with a green strip down the middle and stained and worn. I use it a lot. It's a nice way to keep him close to my heart as I cook, clean or wipe the sweat away while I tan.

There are no tangible testimonies to my cousins other than memories stored in my heart. Ricky and I drank beers on the Pier the last time we were together. He was hurting and a biter about some things but we laughed a lot and promised to do it again. Alas, we never got the chance.

It was also on Tybee the last time I was with Rick. He and my Aunt Becky were visiting so I went to visit them. On a beautiful summer day we watched the tanker ships float into the mouth of the river. We laughed and told stories and promised to do it again on the next visit. It never came.

Sherry too was on Tybee and ran up to me as I was shooting pool with the members of the Bored. I lost the game but my cousin and I talked for an hour or so. Her companion arrived and took her away to ... I'm not certain where they went ... and that was the last time I saw her.

I believe life is a gift that none of us asked for yet each of us share. None of us have any idea how long this gift of life is going to last. A gift's a gift. Some are different than others. They can be short and fast or long and drawn out. You can be born in the greatest of circumstances or the absolute worst. You may be double gifted and have affection in your life ... or not.

Taking my Dad's rag, I wipe my face and touch it to my lips.

The first thing Jesus did after he came back from the dead was cook breakfast on the beach. His friends were all fishing which you may as well do after a funeral. Building a fire in the sand, he grilled fish and called for them to come eat. They did and life went on.

My friend Will D. Campbell once told me, "Mike when someone dies and I go to visit I take my Bible, a bottle of Jack Daniels and potato salad. One of the three ... possibly all three ... will prove to be useful, comforting and holy."

I'm having a service of one this morning. Remembering my cousins I say thanks for their lives but bitch they ended too soon. I think God can take the bitching being God and all.

I thank God for my own life. In spite of its flaws I remain surrounded by affection, love and joyful surprises.

So that's it. There is no day but today. It's the most basic gift that we have though some of us are lucky enough to have other people, adornments and things to make the ride more lovely.

You may as well celebrate it because if you don't you've already started dying.