It is Good

A year ago today, I was living alone, healing from a lot of bad things though doing better than I'd been, had just picked up my first big contract as a self-employed individual, had a tight Carnival of Friends who sustained me. I'd just gotten back from St. Martin where I'd spend several weeks and was in serious self-debate of expatriating. I had already booked my next trip. I don't remember what I was on this particular day but the television was obviously on because there was talk of tornadoes in the Athens and Atlanta, Georgia area. I remember thinking about my son Jeremy and daughter-in-law Marie because they have this great house in Madison ... half way between where the tornadoes was traveling. Madison is picture postcard kind of town. Norman Rockwell obviously made it and General Sherman liked it so much he didn't burn it. I'm a beach bum through and through but ... I love Madison. I love Jeremy and Marie's house. I'd just gotten back from visiting them, sitting on their back deck, sipping wine, watching the sun throw rays on the trees in their backyard, marveling at the silence and proud that they'd pulled off living in such a place. Somewhere in these memories is the phone call. Jeremy's voice was shaky as he explained that they were fine. The house? Not so much. The tornado blew threw their front yard, picking up the massive oak tree dominating the front yard, slamming into the their roof, destroying the house. They'd fled to the basement moments earlier which they'd recently converted into an apartment to rent. It ended up saving them. Jeremy explained the oak tree had taken up residence in the living room and the house was literally broken in two. "On the up side Dad," Jeremy explained, "the kitchen looks good." I asked to talk my brilliant daughter-in-law Marie, whose as strong of a woman as God makes, and it started off fine enough, but the emotion of it all got to her and she cried. It me cry of course so we cried together far away from one another. But ... thank God ... my kids were OK. Even the most beautiful of houses ... in the most beautiful of places ... mean precious little when it comes to those you love with everything you are. Today ... Marie is Professor at Valdosta State College doing what she loves and is moving into a new house. Jeremy has this great apartment in Athens where he finishing his Ph.D. They're as happy as they've ever been which, of course, makes me happy. The house in Madison is repaired and on the market, though nobodies buying. I'm sitting on the Beloved Back Deck looking at the glory of the morning. My beautiful wife Sarah is sleeping still. Goddess is watching over Winston, the new puppy, who is ignorant about stairs and fell through them yesterday. We're consolidating houses so we're fixing things in one while painting the other. Little girls are excited about living at the beach. While I have lots of concerns, I feel incredibly blessed. What a difference a year can make. The choirs of birds and mussels sing their Hymns, the sun dances on the leaves, flowers bloom and the Lord is looking down pronouncing ... "It is good." My eyes grow moist as I remember these things ... and celebrate them too ... at the same time. As bad as it was ... It is good.