Sunday, June 25, 2017

Michael! Mon Amie!---Farwell & Day 193 CJSM

 
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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