For some years a group of men has
joined me in “pub therapy”. A couple of nights ago we
participated in “boat therapy”. I like them both. I liked boat
therapy more.
Pub therapy involves meeting at one of
the excellent brewpubs in our area and talking. Yes, guys talking.
Talking a little about sports and local politics. Grousing a little.
But honestly, talking. We have talked about our griefs, our
children (and recently, praise God, our grandchildren), our patient
wives, our retirement dreams and often, how we really feel.
The beer tastes good. But it was never
the point. I honestly do not know whether I would have survived the
past few years emotionally had I not had pub therapy to set me back
on my feet. And so, an homage to my pub therapy cronies.
Steve, you know precisely
when to start and stop the boat. You served us an appetizer of slow
cruising past the Traverse City waterfront, then along the money
mansions on Old Mission Peninsula. For the main course you offered a
sprint due west across the open water to the Leelanau side. Then you
came to a dead stop. And we talked. It was the most therapeutic
therapy I have had in...maybe ever. Each one of us had something
deep to get out, there on the deep. For dessert you sped us back to
the dock, homing in on the beacon atop the Park Place in the
gathering darkness. As we came in I was overwhelmed with sadness
that we have chosen to leave this gorgeous place. As we walked back
to our cars, splitting off one by one, I felt gratitude for our
ministry to each other. Thank you for a perfect evening, Cap'n
Steve.
Gerard,
I salute you. Literally. You enjoy our ironic salute to each other
every time we meet, though you served and I did not. You and your
equally impressive wife Jean let Linda and I be your friends. It has
been a privilege to share all those road and trail miles on our
bikes, to cook meals to lay up for the sick, to help raise each
others children. You were a trusted adviser to our son as he
considered becoming a doctor. You are a trusted adviser to me. I
can only hope God has given me the ability to advise you well in
return. I think you and I have an awful lot in common. If that's
true, it makes me happy. God speed, Mayor Gerard.
Bill,
after Linda you have been the second-longest active friend in my
life. We know things about each other a select few—in some cases
nobody else—knows. We can finish each others stories. In fact we
have helped write each others stories. You and Rene and Kaitlyn and
the boys gave us a soft landing when we came here twenty-one years
ago. We have experienced death and life together. We have become
like an old, comfortably worn pair of shoes (in your case running
shoes, purchased one can at a time). Your girl really is my
Alternate Daughter, and I her Alternate Dad. We did not see each
other coming but God did. I believe that. People always say they'll
keep in touch. I will, and I know you will. See you again, Brother
Bill.
