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Here I stand, naked and alone

Without hello, or goodbye
I felt your pain, I heard your cry
I must awaken to the realization
And bypass all procrastination
For in that time, of those days
I did love, in my way
Now, all I have are memories of my
Thirty-second day.

- Lee White

(Composed on a napkin in a Chicago Diner in the middle of a melancholy night.)

Note: This man was my father-in-law -- he succumbed to colon cancer in the Fall of 2006. Of everything I could even begin to say, he was gentleness, wisdom, and perspective, personified.

Lee could out-talk me (I'm serious!!), and held such a steadfast and profound belief in the goodness of God. Every. Single. Day. Even yet enduring the end-stage pain of his cancer, he would say, "Rebecca, everyday is a good day; the sun is shining and I can walk -- God has never failed me even though I have failed Him many times." And he would tell me how joyful he felt simply walking from the condominium offices to his home.

I miss him.

I miss his perspective.

I miss that he rambled on, and on, and on.

I miss his grace. I miss his leniency. I miss that he could peg truth within one whimsy of a declaration of thought.

I love you, Lee White.

YOU LIVED JOY. And I carry you with me still.

- Living Joy - This Carman Girl