The Big Basketball Court in the Sky

We had gone to my Mother's house in Belfast for dinner. After two days of camping I was looking forward to her good cooking, a glass of wine and some fine conversation. Being at my Mom's also afforded me the opportunity to check my e-mail. The subject line that jumped out at me right away was about Tim. As I read about his passing I was overwhelmed with a sense of shock and disbelief. After all, I had just read a blog post from him late last week and he had sounded his usual peppy self. How could he be gone? Yes, he was sick. I understood that. But I also had believed Tim when he told me that we was going to be around for several more years. He had so many things he wanted to accomplish. So much he wanted to read and to write about. I was stunned.

God Bless my Mom. I asked her permission to leave before dinner. (My children were spending the night.) I knew I just needed to be alone. As I drove back down Rt. 1, the tears rolled down my checks. Not heaving sobs, just tears of profound sadness. When I arrived back at my father's farmhouse in Camden I put my Irish terrier on his long lead and headed out to the back fields. The sky was streaked with the early pinks of a summer sunset. Those back fields on the top of Melvin Heights are one of the places I go to find God. With my Dog. So I walked and cried and talked to Tim. Out loud. That is my way when I am upset and am trying to find peace.

The conversation went something like this:

A: I am mad at you! Why now? Why so soon?

T: Ashley, trust me, it was not part of my plan either. But Ashley....listen to me....I am not in pain any longer. I had lived with the pain for so long that I had forgotten what it is like to be free of it. It is wonderful!

A: O.K....I get it. I'm not mad anymore. But Tim, do you forgive me?

T: For what? There is nothing that I need to forgive you for.

A: Oh, but I think that there is. Tim, I know that you did not want to retire this past spring. That being our minister, that serving our congregation, brought you immense joy. And that if I and others had not pushed you gently to retire that we would have saved you much heartache.

T: Ashley, there is nothing to forgive. That's just a remnant of your old Catholic guilt talking. Yes, at the time I wanted desperately to stay with you all in Portland. Being your minister and serving First Parish was what I had worked for all of my days. I was living my dreams and it doesn't get any better then that. But I can now see that if you all had not helped me to let go and to move on that I would not have had the very special and important time with my family and friends that these last few months afforded us. As you know from being a faithful reader of my blog, I was able to spend quality time with all of those who were so dear to me. And now we both know how important that time was. It was my chance to say good-bye.

Ashley, your challenge is to stop remembering those times I cried in our last months together (damn those drugs!!!) but of all of the times I laughed. And all of the times I made you laugh. Remember those times when you think of me. Can you do that?

A: I can try, Tim, I can try. You certainly knew how to make me laugh. Although, can I tell you a secret? You were so much smarter then me that some of the time I didn't get the joke but laughed anyway. Is that wrong?

T: No. No. No. Not wrong, just kind.

A: So, Tim, what the heck do I do now?

T: You know what to do, Ashley. First you help the congregation mourn and heal. Honestly, I hope that you will gather everyone together and just tell "Tim" stories. And laugh together and comfort one another. Maybe order some wings in my honor.

Then you do what we talked about. You lead with humor. You help grow new leaders. You help folks find their ministry. You continue to be the warm and welcoming place that we dreamed First Parish can be. Keep it simple. Delegate. Find cause to celebrate. You already know this stuff. When in doubt, just go back and read this blog. It is all there for you and whoever else is looking for wisdom and guidance. Hey... now that I'm dead can I claim that I was wise?

A: Oh, Tim....yes, you can claim wisdom. You were also courageous, generous, patient, funny and compassionate. I'll miss you. We all will miss you.

T: Don't miss me too much. I will be with you in spirit. Hey, I got to go. There's a pick-up game about to start and I want to be on the same team as Emerson and Thoreau. Man, is it great to be able to go up for a jump shot again! Peace, Ashley.

Peace, Tim.