A Sad Happy Day

If you've just come from my Yahoo 360 page, this is it. Now do what you were told and get back there before you get in trouble.

I was at the wood shop this afternoon cutting some shelving I'll install tomorrow at Steve's office. I'm standing at the table saw working and an old guy walks by me headed over to one of the layout tables. He gets about four feet past the table saw and his pants fall down. Whoop! They're around his ankles and his whitey-tighties are there for us all to see. Needless to say, he seemed very embarassed (I sure would be!). We all pretended we didn't see, he pretended it didn't happen (he did pull his pants back up) and on we go. But I suppose that's better than the clever things I thought about saying.

The pic is of one of the three citrus trees in our back gravel. One of the others is almost as loaded as this one and the third, a variety called Mineola - a hybrid of grapefruit and tangerine - has fewer fruit but still plenty! The trees aren't particularly healthy, and that's my fault. I'm still trying to figure out how to take care of citrus trees in the desert. I think I over-watered and the result is large dead zones within the trees. But it certainly didn't hurt fruit production!

I got an email this morning telling me that Wilson Fosse had died a few hours earlier. That is a sad thing because the world needs more people like Wilson, not fewer. That is a good thing because he is right where he wanted to be - free from the pain and limitations he'd struggled with the last couple of years and in the presence of his Savior.
I can't remember not knowing Wilson. Roger, the older of Wilson and Evelyn's two sons, was my best friend growing up. Our families attended the same church, which means Roger and I were in Sunday School, Children's Church, and youth groups together. We also went to the same Junior High and High Schools, walking to school together every morning. Rog was best man at our wedding. All of that means I was often around Roger's parents, both in the church setting and at their home.
Wilson was a big man. Close to six feet tall and big - not in a muscular way, but not fat either. Just big, with hands the size of hams. When Wilson shook your hand you felt like your own hand was downright puny. But Wilson preferred great big bear hugs. I've never been...uhm... buff, and a hug from Wilson could be a little scary, but resistance was futile and his joy and enthusiasm was more overwhelming than his hugs.
Wilson laughed as easily and heartily as anyone I've ever known. Wilson cried with a tenderness the proved his heart was even bigger than his body. And Wilson played the piano with those great big hands, a surprisingly light touch and a smile.
I was sad and happy this morning when I got the news. Sad for me and happy for Wilson. As I was driving into town this morning, thinking about his move from this world into his Savior's presence I had a thought that made me smile real big!
Roger died in the crash of a commercial plane about 16 years ago, leaving behind a wife and five kids. Wilson really missed Rog and we talked about him often. I don't think he ever got over Roger's death.
And driving across the 101 this morning it occurred to me that Wilson and Roger were together again. I know how happy that must have made Wilson. And I know that as he gave Rog one of those great big hugs they talked about how great it will be when the whole family is together again.
Wilson, when I get there can I have one of those hugs?