The Mescalero

As I remember your birthday today, I also mourn the three years since you’ve left this world. I speak of my father-in-law, Carmen. I couldn’t have asked for a kinder, gentler or loving man to have lived with my wife and I during his last years on earth. The influence and value he brought to my life was taken for granted when he was alive, not just for me, but I believe for all who loved him.

Carmen was born and raised on an Apache reservation called Mescalero and when he passed, I wrote this poem for the family as a keepsake and reminder that his spirit will continue to live on in our lives. Little did I know we would be finding “feathers” at the most perfect time and at the most perfect places to let us know he is well and waits for our reunion. I miss you terribly “Pops”.

Son of morning sunlight and brother of the bear

The Mescalero packs his bag in order to prepare

His journey that he walked with others, he must now walk alone

To reach the final destiny, that soon will take him home.

The legs and hands that he once knew, are no longer strong

He perseveres with warrior strength to a distant battle-song

The trail is high and treacherous, with danger on each side

He knows that scaling the mountain side will make him purified.

The bow and staff he always used, were useless now it seems

He now must trust in The Great Spirit who speaks to him in dreams

To guide him to his resting place, made especially for him

Where his ancestors and true love await, along with the cherubim.

Those he left behind to watch, as he faded out of sight

Will forever share his special love and stars that fill our night

While in the storm and dark of night, he reached that sacred place

With arms of strength and legs of steel. Not one wrinkle on his face.

With one last step he found himself taking perfect flight

With eagle’s wings he sailed the sky towards the brilliant light

And as he flew, a feather fell and drifted through the air

To remind us when we see that sign, he’s waiting for us there.   

Last Words

“Words have a longer life than deeds.”

— Pindar, Ancient Greek Poet (522 BC - 443 BC)

I’d like to think my last words on earth will be profound and memorable. Words that will last throughout time and will contain the wisdom and experience of my life to share in a poetically spoken paragraph to leave for future generations as I depart this world. 

The truth is, in my own experience of the deaths I’ve witnessed, there has not been any that have left me instructions for living. It’s almost as if the “soon to be departed” view this current nature of being as a mere vapor not worth mentioning. I often wonder if it’s because in their last days or at that moment of death, a glimpse of the dimension they’re entering assures them of an eternity we could never imagine that will be anything but an ending to their existence. 

I recall the time one of my favorite uncles died after a long illness on a dark and rainy day and the family gathered together in his bedroom for his last moments. Suddenly the clouds immediately broke and sunshine burst right through the window where he laid in bed at the very moment of his death. 

When my loving father-in-law passed in his bedroom, his favorite music played to provide a peaceful send off in his comatose state. We then played the special song he danced to on his wedding day with my mother-in-law who had already passed and after about a minute into their song, he took a deep breath as if sighing over seeing something so beautiful and died. 

When my precious mother passed, she described seeing “Christ coming up over the hill” for her. On the eve of her death and unresponsive, our family stayed by her bedside all night long. Once we had all fallen asleep, she passed and on that very morning a double-rainbow appeared directly over her house as a “God-wink” to us that she was now home.

That’s why I believe our souls continue to live on after our physical death and when I hear of documented last words of those who have already crossed over. It supports my conviction with the only evidence available that we continue to exist beyond the physical world, and the light that extinguishes here on earth is only because it is no longer needed where they are going.  

Many of us may not be given the luxury of leaving last words before departing this world, but those last words which have been documented give us a glimpse into the eternity they were stepping into that challenges most skeptics. 

• Eugene Neil, Playwright Author: “I knew it, I knew it!

• Sam Kinison, comedian and former evangelist, after being mortally wounded in a car accident and while dying in his brother’s arms said: “Why now? I don’t want to die!” He then looked up right before he passed and said: “Oh...okay.”

• Steve Jobs: “Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow.”

• Elizabeth Barret Browning, Author: (when asked how she felt) “Beautiful”.

• Mozart: “The taste of death is on my lips, I feel something that is not of this earth.”

• Anton Szandor LaVey; Founder of the Church of Satan: “I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

We will all meet the same destiny and as I get older, the realization of my mortality becomes clearer and I am overwhelmed by a sense of urgency to be prepared for my last days by trying to make up for all the mistakes of my youth.

As we live day to day, we have many opportunities for “last words”. It could be a parting comment when leaving a gathering, the last word in a disagreement, the mumbling under the breath, or just saying “pleasant dreams” after a long day. The point is we never know what our last words will be. I only need to make sure I will leave comfort and inspiration to those who will be forced to deal with the loss of my existence in their lives.

Walking Through the Glen

“Grieving the loss of a child is a process, it begins the day the child passes and ends the day the parent joins them.”

— BJ Karrer

It’s been eight years since you’ve been gone now my “hunky bunky”. You would have been forty-six years old today son, and my world would have been complete with you still here with me. But if there’s one thing I can be sure of, when we see each other again, we will spend eternity making up for the years I grieved without my boy. Here’s the poem I wrote for you when you were young where we both cried tears of gratitude for having each other…

I took his little hand in mine

And walked him through the glen

Where nursery rhymes and rainbows lived

His journey just began

We’d walk and every now and then

I’d let his hand go free

To wish upon a falling star

Or chase a honeybee

We’d sing together through the day

And wrestle in the grass

Play hide and seek and make believe

Until the day did pass

I’d look upon his sleeping face

When all the day was done

So innocent, so wonderful

So glad that he’s my son

And as he slept, I held him tight

For I knew that when he’s grown

The journey that I shared with him,

He must one day walk alone

My hopes, my love, my wisdom

Were shared while hand in hand

To create a tender heart

When he becomes a man

That little boy with emerald eyes

Who’s made my life aglow,

Who looked to me to lead the way

His hand I must let go

And as his journey starts anew

And mine has found an end

I count myself the richest man

For I walked him through the glen.