The Memory of a Man...

Last night, hundreds of people gathered to remember the life of a man. It is a scene many of us have been apart of. It's an inevitability... We are only human. We sit in crowded pews or some somber auditorium somewhere and the culmination of family, friends and aquaintences pour in... To remember.

This gathering was no more special than any others I'd been to. They are all pretty much the same (some harder than others, but still IN MEMORIAM). Same scriptures read. Same songs sung in the same monotone chorus. We've all been there.

It is the memory of a life we've all had a part of that brings us there and the hope of a promise that makes it bearable.

He was simple and he was loved. He had a sense of humor everyone smiled at and cherished. There were many touched by his presence in thier lives. Those were thier memories of a man.

I knew this man. I had worked for him for a few years a long time ago. But, honestly... I didn't REALLY know him. I respected him and liked him. So, I honored and remembered.

What is it that makes the memory of a man? Is it derived from the stories told of him by his closest family and friends? Is it told through the lives of those left behind? Is it legacy? Faith? Love? I believe the memory of anyone consists of the pieces from thier lives we choose to recount and keep; to remember. Those pieces differ for everyone; we all connect in such different ways.

Every legacy is different and every story treasured. We are but small moments of a grander time. Our lives are meant for eternity in bodies that can't take us there. We serve that grander time with what's left of us and the best of what we give.

I may not have truly known him or his life (I was only a fraction of the whole), but I know he lived full and well by those who remembered him, gathering together to say goodbye.

In memory of Phillip C. Melahn (1952-2010); a great boss, funny man and story teller.

Brice

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