It is a day of reflection. Fifty-three years ago today my father died while he and I were downhill skiing in western Canada. He had a massive heart and died in my arms. He was 52 and I was sixteen. My world crumbled. But as God so often does, He used a tragedy to open new possibilities.
My grief was so intense that the next few months were just a blur. Then in the early Spring of 1970, a girl I had been sweet on for as long as I could remember, telephoned from Ottawa, Canada, 3 thousand miles away. She expressed her condolences about the loss of my dad. That started a love affair that has lasted to this day. In October we will be 70 and married 50 years.
Beauty can come out of tragedy. Joy can replace sorrow. Trust God's plan for your life, even if you're not sure what it is. There is one. (The trinket I'm holding in the photo to the right was given to me by my wife the year my father died. It says "Me and you, you and me, that's the way it will always be.")
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