"There comes a point in your life when God brings someone in, at a very unexpected time, because He wants to show you that you deserve a pure and honest love. You don't question what you did to deserve him or her, just be grateful." ~ Gabrielle Prichard
I just got back from one of the best vacations of my life. Sunshine, beaches, magnificent sunsets, laughter and, best of all, I was surrounded by the ten people that I love the most. There are no words that Shakespeare could have written or colors colorful enough for Norman Rockwell to be able to capture the love and joy that filled my heart over the last week. One evening, in particular, I just stood on the beach, with the warm ocean waves cascading across my feet, thinking how wonderfully blessed I have been in this life.
I have always believed that there are no coincidences in life. Some might disagree but this is my blog and that's what I believe. I believe that God brings people into our lives for very specific reasons. I have often shared that, while I was growing up, there were many people that God introduced me to that have made profound impacts on my life. Sometimes these are people that you are very close to for a period of time and then, as quickly as they came into your life, they are gone. Relationships that seemed unbreakable became just distant memories of a friendship or an encounter that helped make you into the person you are today.
Today I would like to remember someone special that God brought into my life. Those of you who know me will attest to the fact that one of my best friends growing up was Ronnie Whitacre. While I won't share any of our maniacal mischief adventures, I will say that I spent a lot of time at 512 Fort Avenue where most of our pranksterous perils were given flight. And right in the midst of it all was Ronnie's mom, Kay. As if raising three kids of her own were not enough, I become her adopted son. I always suspected she loved me the most, but then again, this is my blog and that's what I believe. Just kidding, however, she did tell me which of her three children that she loved the most but she swore me to secrecy. But enough of that.
The Mrs. Whitacre that I knew was from a time before any of her children had spouses and grandchildren were not even a twinkle in anyone's eye. She and her family entered my life at a time when my life was thrown into chaos. My dad was battling serious health problems and my mom was struggling to work and to care for my dad. As a teenager, I found solace at my friend Ronnie's house. From the beginning, the Whitacre's welcomed me with open arms. Those of you who knew Ronnie's mom will know that she had a smile that was infectious. She had a way of knowing how to say that right thing at the right time and on many of those occasions I was the benefactor. If my shirt was dirty, she gave me one of Ronnie's while she threw mine in the laundry. More than once I left there only to find some money somehow hidden in my pocket on the way home. If there are Guardian Angels, she was mine for a period of time.
Tonight my wife and I shared a laugh about Mrs. Whitacre and her charitable spirit. During our high school years, Mrs. Whitacre could be found at the Fort Hill football games selling programs at the gate. When she would see me and Donna approaching the ticket booth she would run over and grab us and tell the ticket guy that we were her children so that we got in for free. The first time it was a little awkward since Donna and I were holding hands when she grabbed us and pushed us through the gate. Oh well...
You know, sometimes we have a way of remembering things that have long been locked away in the recesses of our memory. As I thought about Mrs. Whitacre today, I remembered a time in the 1980's when I was visiting Cumberland and I thought that I would stop by their house and see if anybody was home. I knocked on the door and was greeted by the all too familiar smile of Mrs. Whitacre. She gave me a big hug and told me to come in and sit down. We talked for a while and then as the conversation lingered she told me that I should be proud of myself for the man that I had become. As I stood up to leave, I gave her a big Bill Kirby hug and told her that I loved her and I thanked her for all that she had done for me over the years.
I don't know why or how I remembered my last conversation with her but I'm sure it was God reminding me about the fact that there are no coincidences in life. He was reminding me that sometimes people come into our lives, leave footprints on our hearts, and we are never the same... And that's no coincidence.
Be Well.
Bill
The Mrs. Whitacre that I knew was from a time before any of her children had spouses and grandchildren were not even a twinkle in anyone's eye. She and her family entered my life at a time when my life was thrown into chaos. My dad was battling serious health problems and my mom was struggling to work and to care for my dad. As a teenager, I found solace at my friend Ronnie's house. From the beginning, the Whitacre's welcomed me with open arms. Those of you who knew Ronnie's mom will know that she had a smile that was infectious. She had a way of knowing how to say that right thing at the right time and on many of those occasions I was the benefactor. If my shirt was dirty, she gave me one of Ronnie's while she threw mine in the laundry. More than once I left there only to find some money somehow hidden in my pocket on the way home. If there are Guardian Angels, she was mine for a period of time.
Tonight my wife and I shared a laugh about Mrs. Whitacre and her charitable spirit. During our high school years, Mrs. Whitacre could be found at the Fort Hill football games selling programs at the gate. When she would see me and Donna approaching the ticket booth she would run over and grab us and tell the ticket guy that we were her children so that we got in for free. The first time it was a little awkward since Donna and I were holding hands when she grabbed us and pushed us through the gate. Oh well...
You know, sometimes we have a way of remembering things that have long been locked away in the recesses of our memory. As I thought about Mrs. Whitacre today, I remembered a time in the 1980's when I was visiting Cumberland and I thought that I would stop by their house and see if anybody was home. I knocked on the door and was greeted by the all too familiar smile of Mrs. Whitacre. She gave me a big hug and told me to come in and sit down. We talked for a while and then as the conversation lingered she told me that I should be proud of myself for the man that I had become. As I stood up to leave, I gave her a big Bill Kirby hug and told her that I loved her and I thanked her for all that she had done for me over the years.
I don't know why or how I remembered my last conversation with her but I'm sure it was God reminding me about the fact that there are no coincidences in life. He was reminding me that sometimes people come into our lives, leave footprints on our hearts, and we are never the same... And that's no coincidence.
Be Well.
Bill
