The Thirtieth Anniversary

 

In the years since then, I have come to realize that Carmon was neither totally a saint nor totally a sinner.  He was as we all are, a person, continually in process of becoming.  He experienced failure and triumph, joy and despair and he left an indelible imprint on my life.  That I am who I am today is so inseparably linked to who he was during our twenty years together that I can’t tell you where one of us stops and the other begins.  My life and my character have been shaped – and I think for the better – by all that he was and by all that we both endured and enjoyed in our time together. 

 

As I watch our thirteen grandchildren and seven great-grandchildren blossom, I often find myself wishing that he were here to share this joy.  In quiet moments, I wish that somehow he could know the impact he has had on all of our lives and of how much I see him, mirrored daily in the faces of his progeny.  Those grandchildren often say, from their hearts, that they miss their Grandpa Carmon, a man they never knew and one whom they will never meet in this life.  I wish he somehow could know of this incredible love we all feel for him. 

Perhaps he already does. 

 

© Gebara Education, 2001. No portion of this book may be copied by any method without the express written permission of the author

Picture of mountain sunrise from www.freebigpictures.com
Picture of Carmon taken in my parents' front yard not long after we were married. He was 22.