Saying Goodbye to an Old Friend

What is more human than to share our grief in the loss of a friend? After all, we all will face death. Either through the loss of a family member or friend, or vicariously through the shared loss of another, death unites us as humans. As Christians we understand that death is the transition from one aspect of life (temporal) to another (eternal).

I first met Reggie before the campus opened for the 1989 Fall semester at Southeastern College. He and I were about the same age, both of us were fathers, and both of us were trying to find our way as adult learners. Reg came from the tough streets of New York and found Christ after a lifetime of addictions. It was the consequences of these addictions that would later end his life. His body could just not heal the deep internal wounds left by abuse.

It was my privilege to take him to the hospital in Tampa on several occasions for tests and procedures. Reggie was later placed on the list for a liver transplant. Unfortunately, I moved away before he received his transplant. Another friend took over when he was called for the operation. He managed to live a few years after the transplant. I do not know the details, but he passed away about 4 years ago.

I think what I am struggling with the most is that I found out today that he had passed away. What shocked me the most was that it took so long for me to find out. How sad that I did not follow up with him after the operation. How sad that I was not around when he passed away. How sad that I dropped the ball in maintaining communication with him.

Out of sight, out of mind - that's what happens in friendships and families. It's easy to lose touch with one another when one moves. It should not happen, but it does. Our relationships are all that we have to keep us connected as humans. We're it, we're plan A and there is no plan B. Yes, we can have a spiritual connection with God, but God does not want us to disconnect with our families and friends.

So, here's to my friend Reggie Collazzo. A veteran, a father, a brother in Christ, and a friend. I am sorry that I was not there to see you begin your eternal journey, but I know that God was standing waiting for you to arrive on the other side.

Stay in touch with your human friends and family. We are all that we have.

God bless.

Blame It On The Blind Monkeys

When faced with a seemingly insurmountable problem I must be willing to ask the difficult questions. I say difficult because it is risky to ask questions that I don't want to answer. It's really the answers that threaten me because it may require me to change. And change is the one thing that most human beings resist. Change threatens my way of perceiving reality, my sense of balance, and it usually results in a long and messy process.

I am sure that we all live in a city that has a "malfunction junction." You know, one of those intersections that makes you wonder how many blind monkeys designed the idiotic meshing of traffic patterns destined for disaster.

A book that I am reading (Family Ministry by Diana Garland) gives such an example. It was a junction of three major highways in a very congested area. It had sharp curves and merging lanes that shifted cars without warnings. It resulted in a high number of traffic deaths. Flashing lights were installed to warn drivers, the police department published flyers warning drivers about the dangers, and the fire department purchased two new ambulances with the latest equipment in order to handle the serious injuries in a timely fashion. The results were marginally less fatalities, but the number of accidents were still high. The only real solution would be to completely reengineer the road. However, reengineering would be very expensive; it would mess up the traffic flow for everyone; and it would take several years to complete. At the time of the publishing of the book, the community had not made a decision as to what course of action to take. It seems like it was easier to keep blaming the drivers than to stop and fix the road. Sound familiar?

I am not responsible for the actions and decisions that other people make. I am not in control of how the roads are designed or how other people drive. I am in control of my decisions, reactions, and choice of words. As a school principal, I make choices and decisions everyday that impact the lives of other people. My choice of words can encourage someone to make better decisions or my words can feed their pain and negative attitude. That choice is mine, not theirs. How I choose to react to them plays a significant role in my attitude towards them and towards God.

When I am stressed, it's easy for me to fall into a critical and cynical mode of thinking. That's my malfunction junction. My thoughts become chaotic and personal feelings get in the way. I ignore the informational pamphlets and flashing warning lights. If I'm not careful, it becomes a trap where an offense leads to bitterness. Then the bitterness of my humanity can spring up and destroy my spiritual connectedness with God and relationship with others.

So, I cannot afford to blame the other drivers, the highway I drive on, or even the blind monkeys that designed the road system. If I look carefully into the review mirror I see the real problem staring back at me. I can choose to keep driving the same route or I can choose another higher road. I don't always succeed, but I keep trying. I look for the warning lights, listen to wisdom, and carefully change lanes.

God bless you, my human friends. And watch out for the blind monkeys! They're out to getcha!