Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Burt Burleson preached for the first day of our holy week noonday services at FBC. (I preach Thursday).

His sermon was beautiful of course, but even more vivid were the memories I found when I encountered him, hugged him and listened to him preach.

There are Holly and Wes and my three surrogate siblings. How old is Olivia now? Does she have to grow while I am gone? Can she please, please keep her witty childhood young? And Ben who used to sit on my lap and cling to me in the swimming pool when it got too deep, he probaby has girlfriends now and long cute hair. And I wish he'd stay innocent too, and behave nicely toward his little sister. And Abby, the closest in age and the most troubled in spirit. So beautiful, yet so confused. I pray for clarity and love. I loved that house. Loved that family. Loved their spirit, honesty and accepting nature. I loved sitting on the porch, drinking white wine (yep, sometimes out of the box) and loving life.

There are the Carrons, Paul and Jen. Paul I knew before Jen, when he, Jessy and I used to go to Common Grounds five years ago and study, them Hebrew, me Schleirmacher or something. And Jessy. So many memories of music, long discussions, climbing, tears and guffaws. Of midnight runs to see weird Spider movies (what was that film called you guys?) and trips to Austin when cars broke down. That was the old crew. Remember Big Phil, Robert, Rocky, Eric, Rebecca, Lance and that guy, that sweet, smart pre-med guy who totaled two cars in two days. What was his name?

And Julie. My beloved Julie who came towards the end and helped me survive Hebrew through giggles and dirty play on words. Julie who calmed my spirit and let me join her on cuddle-island transformed. Julie who understood the drugs and the memory loss and the sadness and joy. Julie who knew both worlds, Jewell and Texas, and forgave me for changing.

And Jeremy and Phil and Lance who are all gone now. They feel gone at least. They're in Minnesota or Beaumont or in married-land and sometimes I'm afraid I'll never get them back. Jeremy once said, there is (was) no community like ours whether on Phil's porch by Baylor, Phil's porch by the hospital or the Eades porch late at night hiding cigarette butts in the chiminay and promising to give it up soon.

Oh God, I miss these people. And there are more... Billy and Renee, Robert and Hun, Rebecca, Cat, Kyle, Kris, Wags, Josie,Lynette...

But Kyle is gone now and will not be communicated with again except in dreams. So let's communicate while we have the chance. This is my shout out. I love you Wes, Holly, Abby, Ben and Olivia Eades. I love you Jessy, Phil, Lance, Jeremy, Julie, Josie. I love you Paul and Jen.

I miss Lance cooking me mac and cheese.
I miss Jessy eating all the contents of my fridge.
I miss Paul playing the guitar.
I miss the theology discussions on Phil's old porch across from Rebecca's place where Phil would introduce everyone as "my wicked smart friend."
I miss Lynette's eye rolls and making subversive tee-shirts.
I miss eating a whole pizza with Julie and doing CM.
I miss Bridget Jones' Diary and wine coolers with Cat.

I miss it all. I miss you all. And I love you. Let's stay in better touch...



cat said...

I miss you too. Man, the memories just flooded over me while reading this today. It's hard to believe all that has come and gone and come to pass since that first day I walked into that room at FBC Waco wearing that hideous pink zebra print shirt...God you had the worst first impression of me. All I have to say to all that has been the time that we have spent together and apart is..."I like you...No, I like you just they way you are". So, here's my toast across the mountains and the miles..."To Ann...just they way she is!" (Because, to tell the truth, I wouldn't want you any other way)

Damon said...

Wow, you make me miss my Eades family. And I miss you every time I catch up with you on your blog. Maybe I should come to Texas this summer for a visit. Love you, Dot