“TO BE HUMAN IS TO HAVE A COLLECTION OF MEMORIES
THAT TELLS YOU WHO YOU ARE AND HOW YOU GOT THERE.”
Rosecrans Baldwin
As I write this it is Easter Sunday. This week I am more aware of what Holy Week means than many of the past. It is not that my birthday was this last week, but the fact that the day before I buried one of my best friends. Coupled with the fact that the week is when we Christians celebrate the events leading up to our Saviors passion and death it has been very much of a week that sobers.
Carl Koster of Cheney, Kansas has been written about with wonderful articles in newspapers and eulogized at his funeral with his many facets and talents. I cannot begin to describe the man to you if you did not know him. I will not try to capsulize the talents and the personality of his being to you. I am just not that good of a writer.
Many of my best friends have been taken by cancer and the word itself grieves me. It is hard to watch someone so close deteriorate and take a long and painful trip to pass. Fortunately Carl’s passing was fast and without warning. I would not like to see him suffer a long term illness. Carl was full of life and everyone that knew him could see that he was the picture of life. Not only by his personality but also by his talents and a sense of humor that was always a delight.
Does it make a difference to the living if we lose someone so close quickly or over a long period of time? I find both very painful. But Carl’s passing during Holy Week gives a different dimension to the fact that we are all destined to die. By passing during this time his life makes a larger mark on everyone.
We all try to have joy when we know someone has gone on to their final reward. It is just difficult to deal with the fact that you will not see his face again, or hear his voice, or see his smile.
We always try to put into words how losing a friend makes us feel and part of the grieving process is the overwhelming sadness. The sadness will not pass but will fit into our life as another part of living. Memories should make you smile and not cry. That will come with time.
I will miss the twice daily pie report from the county fair. I will miss his wonder at how I could get a photo focused on a strand of barb wire and not the quail setting on it. I will miss his insights into local, state, and national politics. I will miss his visits he made when close to our hill. I will miss my friend and others will also.
