When Billy Joel penned his pro-lust lyrics of “Only The Good Die Young” he was actually borrowing a phrase from Menander, a fourth century poet who wrote “Whom the gods love die young.” It’s a song I’ve always like because of the catchy melody and fun lyrics but this week the title words hit home.
At my age, I still consider myself young – doesn’t matter what the calendar says, I think of myself in terms of how old I’d be if I didn’t know how old I really am and it’s nowhere near the true number. With that attitude, it’s even harder to think of attending a funeral visitation for a long-time friend and high school classmate but that’s exactly what we did yesterday.
Friend Dale lost his battle with cancer last Friday although he gave it one helluva fight over the last several years. His wife of over 40 years, Helen Grace (HG), was his partner in that battle and even a few months ago he was planning a motorcycle trip in May with a good friend. I have known Dale since my pre-school days at the church we both attended and then we were classmates in junior high and high school. HG was a couple of years behind me in school but her family lived in our neighborhood and she’s also a long-time friend.
We lost track after high school but solidly renewed our friendship several years ago through our mutual interest in motorcycling. We ran into Dale and HG at a motorcycle rally in Branson when we were in the market for our first bike and they not only took us on our first GoldWing rides but also were instrumental in locating that bike which we bought a week later.
For many years we enjoyed riding together and Dale once remarked I was the “least likely girl from high school to be seen on the back of a motorcycle” – a quote I cherished!!! He had a quick smile and a heart as big as they come – definitely a “good ole boy” in the very best sense of the phrase because he would do anything for anyone, never met a stranger and knew without a doubt that he was going to meet his Savior when he left this world.
The funeral is today but prior obligations meant we could only attend the visitation late yesterday afternoon. We met several of my classmates for an early bite to eat and then went to the funeral home to see HG and the rest of the family. I rarely get to Fulton any more so it was a bittersweet walk down memory lane. Not exactly the reason I wanted to see my home town! Several friends I hadn’t seen in many years knew who I was immediately and let me know how much I look like my sister – there were lots of tears over Susie and good memories shared and I quickly became used to being called “Keck” which was my high school nickname.
We drove back last night in a snowstorm, taking almost five hours instead of the usual three or less – but Burl drove slowly, we only semi-wiped out once and he was smart enough to stop for coffee in Lebanon. By time we got home around 11 we were thankful for our safe travels and had enjoyed great conversation remembering Dale and HG and the fun times we shared.
Dale proved the adage that it’s not the years in your life but the life in your years. He lived life fully and left the world a better place with the memories he gave us.
May we all be so fortunate.
