Posted July 31, 2021
“ . . . A day with my granddaddy in his old Skeeter boat. A sack of bologna sandwiches and two old fishing poles, I'd take another one of those . . . Oh, I'd take another one of those, and another, and another for the road. I'd take another one of those - another don't know what you got until it goes - I'd take another one of those . . .”
From Shenandoah’s “I’d Take Another One of Those” (recorded with the Zac Brown Band)
As I write this, I am conflicted with diametrically opposite emotions.
One is the great, satisfying feeling one has when they have enjoyed a great concert and seeing a great family enjoy one of their own as he performs.
In this case, I’m referring to the Shenandoah concert I attended last night. My friend, 22-year-old Austin Crum, is a guitarist for the band. I’ve followed Austin and his incredible family ever since I watched them perform at a battle of the band’s kind of thing. I became an instant fan.
Austin’s family are what we call in the South, “good people”. They are people of faith, goodness, wholeness, and love. When you hear the phrase, “tight family,” the Crum’s come instantly to mind.
Watching Austin perform with Marty Raybon and Shenandoah brought back nothing but great memories of my relationship with the Crum family.
Memories. Great, heart-warming memories.
This morning, I received a text shortly after I awoke from one of my oldest, dearest friends. Roderick and I go back 44 years as of this writing. We were raised in the same church denomination. We’ve dreamed big dreams as college roommates. We’ve travelled the world together. We’ve had each other’s backs and leaned on each other’s shoulders as we dealt with this thing called life.
Ah, this thing called life. Ancient writings refer to it as “just a vapor.” Fleeting. Over in a blink of an eye.
All of that became painfully apparent as I read my dear friend’s text that his father (also a friend of mine) had passed away.
This wasn’t unexpected, but still . . .
When I started Boomerocity, it was to remember (but not live in) the past and to continue to build on all the lessons learned from the past and relish the memories of that same past.
Roderick’s father was a retired minister. I called him “Padre”. He spent his entire adult life helping prepare others, as well as himself, for this final transition that we all must face.
I could go on and on about both Padre and the Crum’s. But it all points to this:
We all have finite time on this planet. We already know that. We just don’t act like we do. We live as if tomorrow never comes.
But it does.
Once again, I encourage all of us to live life to the fullest. Make every moment of every day as memorable as you can. Savor the moments with friends and loved ones. Ponder the memories of your times with them. It will help burn them into our minds.
Strive to make those times of the simplest but highest quality. So much so that when you think back on those memories, you’ll say to yourself, “I’d take another one of those . . .”