For Wilshire Baptist Church
Monday was one of those long, busy days when you wake up to it and you’re not sure it’s do-able, but you gather yourself up and set out on the journey and see where it takes you.
It started with an omelet prepared by LeAnn because she knew I wouldn’t get another meal for a while. And then I was off to my annual physical where there was good news and bad news. The good news was aside from typical age-related complaints, I’m healthy with nothing that needs treating or watching. Vitals are normal, while blood counts are mostly where they should be after they were thrown off balance by cancer treatments.
After a good report like this, the doctor normally would say, “See you in 12 months,” but he didn’t this time, and that was the bad news: He’s retiring and next year I’ll see someone I’ve yet to meet. I’m not keen on starting over with someone new, but the upside is I’ve reached that age where I want a doctor who is younger than me, so I’ll get to make a decision on that. Still, I got a little emotional as the visit ended because this doctor has been there for me through some of the most troublesome health issues of my life. He wasn’t the doctor doing the fixing, but he made some of the referrals and provided generous doses of support and optimism. Note to new doctors: Kindness and empathy are still good medicine.
When I got back to the car, I pulled a pre-tied necktie over my head and tightened the knot under my collar because my next stop was First Baptist Richardson for a memorial service. It was for the father of some kids I grew up with at that church, but actually, he was more than that; he was one of those bonus parents kids have when they grow up in a close community where everyone lives, laughs and cries together. That point was reinforced as his son and others shared remembrances that included their mention of my own parents and those of our other friends. Note to parents: It really does take a village.
After the service and reception, I jumped back in the car and munched on peanut butter crackers and sipped coffee as I drove to Wilshire for the celebration of life for everyone’s “pal” George Gagliardi. It was a wonderful tribute to a man who collected friends and enriched lives with the same creative energy he poured into amazing music for churches and secular audiences alike. Note to those who missed the service: You can still find it on Wilshire’s YouTube channel.
After the service and reception that was a musical showcase of many of George’s compositions, we went home long enough to change clothes and eat dinner before returning to church for our weekly Wilshire Winds rehearsal. We sight-read some new pieces for a summer concert and practiced two for worship in February: “All Creatures of Our Lord and King” and “Precious Lord Take My Hand.” As we played, I felt the silence of the gap next to me where George played his tenor sax. I mostly sat apart from the altos for a better sightline to Shana, our director, but I sort of feel like I need to leave the space vacant for a while.
Arriving home afterward, I looked at the trip counter on the dashboard and saw it had been a 65-mile day. That isn’t so much in a region as spread out as ours, but there was a lot of emotional mileage as well with two memorial services and a visit to check on my own mortality. Note to self: Worry less and enjoy life more.
Back home, I gathered up the orders of worship from the two memorial services and put them on the bedside table. Usually, I look them over again sometime during the week and then quietly put them in recycling. Except this time, I’ll hold on to the sheet that was distributed at George’s reception, because it has the lyrics to “One of These Days,” a song he wrote for the Spotlight Players at Highland Park United Methodist Church. A group of actors and singers from that program previewed it during the reception:
One of these days
One of these glorious days
I’m gonna be heaven bound
Then I will sing me a travelin’ song
Don’t look for me
‘Cause I’ll be gone
One of these days
Oh, one of these days
Gonna plant my feet
On that beautiful shore
Where sorrow and pain
Shall be no more
Gonna hear my Lord say
“Hello, friend, welcome home, come on in”
One of these days