He told this story: When Don and Mary first started attending his church a couple of years ago, he learned that Don was a mechanic and mentioned to him that he had a motorcycle that hadn't run right in years.
"Bring it over," Don told him. "I'll get it fixed."
Some time went by, but finally the preacher got a call from Don. The bike was fixed. Sure enough, the preacher started it up and rode it home. It ran great! A few days later, however, he noticed that where a beautiful Yamaha bolt used to be, there was a common square bolt like one you would find on an old tractor. He called Don and mentioned the bolt.
"Does your motorcycle run?" Don asked.
"Yes," answered the preacher.
One lady stood up to tell about the time she told Don her lawn mower wasn't running properly. He fixed it, but once fixed, it was quite a process to get it started, and he went through all the steps with her. She was somewhat confused, and asked him why she had to go through all this stuff just to start a lawn mower.
"Do you want it running," Don asked her, "or you want to pay the price for fixing it right?"
Don's middle son had a story to tell from a time when he was fifteen years old helping his dad get a car to his shop in Pahrump, Nevada. He was in the middle of the story, emotional, of course, and said, "we were hauling ass..." and then turned to the preacher and said, "I'm sorry..."
The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.
The common thread in all the shared thoughts was this: "Don would stop anything he was doing to come and help."
Here's what Cliff and I learned: You don't need to be looking at a dead body in a coffin in the front of a room to celebrate the life of a loved one. If we ever had any doubts about our decisions to be cremated, they vanished today.
|Cliff and Don|