Adios!
Five too-long
years since ye departed here,
June 26,
2012---A sad & sorry day-tear
I’ve spoken all
the tear-filled words
while smiled the
precious memories:
For
Michael’s-mark upon me---I knew:
Adios!
Mon
Amie!...I’ll always love you!
Michael James Bradley
(October 9, 1953-June 26, 2012)
(a loving tribute; 6-26-2013)
One sunny spring day found me in the
office at 2:30 p.m., busy at my desk, working. What?
I sensed someone at the door and looked
up expecting one of the office girls asking for a clarification on some point
that left her confused while transcribing my dictation. Surprise!
There stood Michael, leaning against the
door jamb with his bland, deferential personage.
My gaze betrayed obvious curiosity
prompting him to inquire, “Have you ever felt like you might cry? And, there
was no reason for you to feel that way?”
Leaning back in my chair and laying down
my pen, I answered, truthfully, “Yeah. At mass, at the offering collection and
at Holy Communion. Also, when I think of my family and country.”
Unusual as all of that is, that episode
began a seventeen year spiritual journey, together.
That first day of our sojourn, Michael
explained the “stirrings” of the Holy Spirit, that strange “crying” sensation;
how the Spirit lives within each of us, the welling up behind the eyes when He
“stirs”. Two and a half hours later, our conversation ended; I was enlightened,
overwhelmed.
Before he delved too deeply in
disclosure of his “spiritual understandings” to me that day, Michael asked for
a blank piece of paper and a pen. Coming behind my desk, he drew a flat,
straight line, horizontally, across the paper; then added a graph-like line
with many and varied peaks and valleys. At either end he placed a small “x”
representing birth and death.
He said, “If this drawing was a graph of
your life, the flat line a choice to live with no highlights, no deep valleys,
un-emotional, safe, secure, enough of everything to satisfy you; the jagged
line, extreme highs and deep lows of a choice to challenge life, take chances,
risk everything, have the faith, and, the guts, to challenge life for all it
can give, but, knowing full-well that the valleys will be as severe and long
lasting as the highs. Which would you choose?”
Without hesitation or compunction, I
confessed, “The latter; every time. That’s how I live.”
On my way home that very day, I
experienced my first vision. I felt so un-deserving after it happened that I
refused for several years to call them “visions”; I referred to them as
“images”.
Michael insisted that they were true
visions and that I should just accept them as such.
I was intensely humbled by these
extra-ordinary occurrences; I was not convinced; not worthy. For seventeen
years Michael’s genius and my thoughts discussed, dissected, challenged and
blatantly and brutally tested the phenomena which happened to me. In spite of
our aggressive efforts to de-bunk the images, in the end, we, together, could
not do so. He said that I had between fifty and sixty such happenings; I never
counted; his assessment seems correct.
I wrote each occurrence with drawings
and gave copies to Michael. He had a special gift which allowed him to
interpret their meaning; his discernment was absolutely uncanny.
Two points of import with regard to this
follow: 1) Often, I would utter some fact or describe a scene which he would
interrupt saying that the issue or words were accurately scriptural; 2) One
vision was about an eagle clutching a rattlesnake, climbing high and dropping
it onto a rock, head first and killing it; NINE (9) years later, this “vision”
came true and revealed its meaning.
With regard to (1) above, I have no
“bible-knowledge” to offer anything scriptural; the second item was
indecipherable to Michael for nine years; I had forgotten it, but, he remembered.
I harbor no ill-feelings for any skeptic
regarding this accuracy; I confess that should someone come to me with this
fantastic story, I would not believe them, either. Yet, he and I know the truth
of the matter. I am no saint, but, I would fear to lie about such Godly
matters. Amen!
Michael! I miss and will always
love you! Mon Amie!
Plus:
Day 193
Hours of hitting
practice in the front yard.
Tiger in the
field to supervise.
It’s
a Family Affair! I reckon! Sure
enough! (Who could forget “Tiger”-cat?)
Followers of the “Cookie Jar Sweet Memories”
saga have oft read my practiced-mantra of Faith!
Family! Freedom! “Life” is the
continual celebration of that sacred trinity. Family-Love!
Our collective affinity for four-legged
friends brings our pets into the equation---Happily!
We have always been able to amuse ourselves
with “simple” activities, like: the horses, dogs, cats, sheep, chickens, ducks,
cattle and one lone turkey named “Tilley” Tiger-cat was special.
The grey and white tiger-striped feline truly
“believed” he was a family member.
One Saturday afternoon the neighbor drove over
to visit on his John Deere tractor; coming into the family room he took the
comfortable chair beside the huge fireplace; Tiger sat at his side on the floor
intently eyeing the “stranger who had conscripted Tiger’s” chair. Jim ignored
him.
When our guest leaned forward in the chair
after about ten minutes, Tiger-cat jumped up behind him as if to say, “Get out
of my chair!” Jim relented giving a share and share alike offer.
When the man left, Tiger eased in to “his”
chair, finally satisfied with his “kingdom”, again.
Our “human” family did everything together,
especially---work. All pitched in so we would have plenty of “play-time” later.
We swam, rode horses, hiked, ice skated, snow-sledded, took up photography, did
target shooting, had a bow and arrows, skied (the girls), fished, hunted wild
Morel mushrooms in the spring, took day trips and extended vacations. We bought
cattle together, shared in the work, bought real estate together, did the
remodeling and sold the houses. We built several very nice homes with input
from each member for decorating ideas; collected antiques which we utilized to
decorate garnering a “nice” collection in the process, cooked and bar-b-qued
and entertained and celebrated at a moments notice---and…we played a lot of
ball.
Sometimes we would go to a baseball diamond to
practice; often, we used the front yard. The girls learned to field and hit and
understand the nuances of the great game. Tiger-cat always joined in our
activities; he even came to the pond on an ice skating foray.
Tiger lived the life of a cat-“King” and
enjoyed longevity. We sure enough enjoyed his company. “What a feline!” Thanks
for the memories---our friend…Tiger-cat!
Ah! Cookie Jar Sweet “Tiger-cat” Memories!
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