Friday, May 16, 2014

Dedicated To Jeffro

I seem to be the last to know that our dear friend and blogger Jeffro, of 'The Poor Farm' blog passed away on Monday, May 5.  While I visited his blog almost daily, I thought only that he was taking some time away from it, until I saw the comments to his final blogpost mounting.
That's when I learned.  
It's my fault, and therein is a valuable lesson to be learned:  Hold your friends close, no matter how distant they may be.  
I have thought alot about ole Jeffro today while working.  And I imagine it will take a while to fully feel the impact of his absence on our little blogging world.
So, to honor Jeffro, I submit this post, trying my best to imitate and honor my late friend's style.

Jeffy Shows His Humility Before His Father

In his own little way, Jeffy unnerstands that 'Father knows best'.  See how the boy has his hands behind his back, standing on one foot as he questions his father, no doubt on some childish question, but important to him, in his 7 year old mind.  Shoot, he probably came to ask Bil, his daddy, about some foolishness that sister Dolly had told him in private, secretly, and making a big deal about it.  Dolly....

Jeffy shows some hope for his future, trusting in his Father's word, relying upon Daddy to hold the fragile world of a 7 year old together, until tomorrow at least, when another whirlwind of apprehensive ideas invades his mind. Jeffy, the prototypical middle child, is unsure of his place in this world, not being the privileged oldest sibling, nor the coddled baby in his family's circus.
Jeffy's grasp of reality is like a prized bass boat tethered to a pier in a gale windstorm:  It rocks back and forth, between the wide world of wonders of little boys worldwide and eternally, 
and the faint glimpse of future manhood, where he might just be lucky enough to be able to counsel his own boy.   The rope and the pier are his own daddy, grounded to the shore, stable and safe–looking, approachable, trustworthy. Jeffy is even comfortable in appearance and stance, on the outside, while the question of the moment is brought up to his dad to answer.
Better wise up now, Jeffy, and please, please, do try and remember, this time!
No wonder that this little boy feels that he can ask dad about anything that's on his tiny mind.
And not a wonder nor a fear that the little runt can implicitly trust his old man in matters wholly outside his mind's concerns, too.  Like, "where does our breakfast sausage links come from, Piggly Wiggly or Wal–Mart, or where?"
Yes, the storms that bring often grave concerns to parents' minds are completely swept away by a child's innocence and a child's simple curiosity; confidence in oneself restored when a parent can supply, can solve an answer to his offspring's most stupefying mysteries.

Sort of how God feels too, answering his childrens' simplistic, though solemn questions.
From our Daddy's point of view, the answer is blindly simple, and yet we cannot seem to grasp that simplicity, we children always seem to have the need to complicate, if not totally reject the otherwise simple answer to our questions; then, when finally, as Jeffy does above, we relinquish our fears, our doubts, our suspicions of Dolly's words, to Daddy's trusted wisdom to either confirm, deny or correct.

Godspeed, friend Jeffro, and hope I dun ya proud~!

1 comment:

Leticia said...

Oh my gosh!! I'm so sorry about hearing this.

I hate to hear we lost another good person.