A phone call can change everything.
Saturday, June 20..asleep and the phone rang. Stefan's nightmare.
Ruth called to say his father died.
Shock.
David was driving his racecar at oxford speedway, "his last race", he said.
foot to the floor, rounding the corner, then a change---and the car made its own trail through the infield, across the curve, through the ditch, cleared a fence---at top speed...landing on tires safely between two cars--stopped by the fence pulling on the cars guts, ungluing cables--killing the power.
Jeremy (Stefan's brother) was there...running..running...into the car, no pulse, helmet off, seatbelts off, onto stretcher, no pulse, CPR....
time.
Time with David for Jeremy, and soon Kerri (his wife), and then Ruth...sweet wife....
And soon a phone call to sleeping Stefan in Canada...
GRIEF.
numbing pain, busywork, adrenaline, exhaustion, weariness, disbelief, and finally,
reunion at the airport, minus one.
we went to see David. but he just looked like him, but so clearly wasn't him.
same sweater, pants, hands, hairstyle....we talked to him, laughed, cried, shared, wondered at how huge the soul of a man is for the shell left behind.
the next day, laid to rest....carried in a cool, frosty morning.
sniffling, tears, sombre.
Young strong sons lead the way, helped by David's older brothers, friends...
Gently gently lowered to groundlevel...prayed for, and then slowly lowered into the earth hand over hand,
by his boys, his brothers, his boys, his brothers...
tears and sand sprinkled on his box. goodbye.
peace.
celebration. packed church. pictures of a life of smiles, adventure, family, building, love.
words of thanksgiving, praise, recognition, pride spoken.
and at the back, a guard of c grade racers, standing tall, quiet, solemn, proud of one they respected and appreciated.
the message of hope, that's what he'd want.
peace.
