Saying Goodbye

My mom just called to tell me that my dad's best friend from high school died of a massive heart attack yesterday. He was 64 years old. My dad and mom met Walt when they were freshman in high school and was on the basketball team with my dad. He was a tall man with a huge smile, a kind spirit and a tremendously infectious laugh. He was a faithful friend.

I first met Walt when I was about 4 years-old. I had just woken up from a nap and he was standing there in his socks, holding a soda and talking to my dad on the back porch of our house in Florida. We had a lot of construction workers walking around the house because we were doing a renovation. I remember going up to my dad and asking him in a whisper why one of the workmen was standing there in his socks? Walt heard me and chuckled. I heard his laugh and saw his smile and liked him instantly.

As I get older, I realize that my parent's friends and family are at an age where I am having to say goodbye to them. And some of them way too soon. This is tough for me one a few levels. Saying goodbye is difficult enough, but for me these people helped keep my dad's memory alive. They have memories of him that they share that make him less of a ghost. Walt was one of these people. As I say goodbye to him, I say goodbye to my dad all over again.

I have no idea where Walt stood spiritually. It is not my job to judge another person's heart. But I pray from the bottom of my heart that he is, right now, shooting hoops with my dad, his laughing ringing through the courts of heaven.

Doing What You Love

I was talking with a friend recently about how tough the publishing business can be. My friend was expressing her frustration with the music industry where she has worked as a singer and songwriter for the past 10 years. Both of us were in agreement that it is tough to truly do what you love sometimes when you are trying to make a living at those things. She has been very successful but is now taking time off to have children and slow down. Part of her decision to take a break also came from feeling that she became a part of a system that only asked her to produce songs that people wanted to hear instead of what came from her heart and she struggled with that.

I think that is a common and quite sad reality for those of us who live and work in creative fields. I have a novel written and can't seem to find the right publisher for it. I understand the publishing business and know that I am certainly not alone. But I struggle when I hear what publishers are looking for and it seems solely based on what is selling. Now, I was not born yesterday. Money is key. I get it. But I mourn the fact that the creative process is hurt so badly by this. Do I think my book is a bestseller? Not necessarily. But I think it's a nice story that some people may enjoy. (And yes, people besides my mother.) And I have talked with my agent about changing it to fit more of what publishers are looking for. But we always seem to come back around to not changing it just to make it what people want. This then changes what it was originally created to be. (And I thank God every day I have an agent who believes in me and loves my story as it is.)

Yes, I know we need things written because there is an audience for it. But I hope and pray that there are many out there who sit down and pound out stories each day or write songs or paint paintings because they were formed by a tremendously creative God to do so.