Making My Way Back...

In a surprise move that will ruin the "Just go to Google and search for 'Not only does he talk too much'" advice I've been giving for years, I've changed my Google profile and the name of my blog.

My little sister was keeping my 86 year old dad in the loop as Shane quickly progressed through his illness. After Shane died, my dad got confused and thought it was me.

I took a quick trip up to Gillette Wyoming to either explain the situation or REALLY freak my dad out by showing up.

While we were there, we talked about this weird "dying isn't that big of a deal" attitude that is prevelant in the Crawford line.

For my dad and me faith was not something you work at. It just is. Although I've spent countless hours debating God's existance with my intelectual but non-believing friends, in my mind, the discussion was always just rediculious. I'm perfectly willing to have the same debate about the existance of air, light or gravity and each of these discussions would be equally silly.

This faith doesn't come from my heart. Truth be told, I'm not much of a "this comes from the heart" kind of a guy. It all comes from my mind. I can't look at the obvious signs of design all around me and not have the existance of a creator be a no-brainer. Perhaps I'm morphing into a completely different post so let me realign...

So, I'm in Wyoming trying to freak out my dad by showing up and using his confusion to suggest a reserection thing.

We were talking about how Shane faced his death with wonder, anticipation, and virtually no fear. I asked my dad if that attitude was prevelant on the Crawford side or if it came exclusively from my Grandmother's father (I'll write another post about him later).

Dad assured me it was all his mom, not his father.

Thinking back on raising my kids I couldn't begin to count all the times I said "If it wasn't so perminant, I would LOVE to die and check out the other side".

I remember when my grandmother Crawford died. It wasn't this sad, everybody cries kind of a thing. She wasn't bothered that it was coming, and when it finally happened, everyone was so happy for her.

Mission accomplished.

So here we are. The boy is gone (I called him that right up to and including this year) and if you read my earlier posts, he won't have time to miss us before we start showing up. Meanwhile, the acturaial folks that are advising me on how to manage my money in retirement tell me I've probably got another 30 years down here.

Thirty years of serving the lord, helping the kids, and now (as if I needed one more thing to look forward to)...

Making my way back to Shane.