The Starving Activist is the sometimes-home for words. AR Neal (that’s me) finds them, cultivates them, and leaves them here. Enjoy.

Irresistable Shares: Time Marches

It is April 2. Forty-seven years ago today a boy was born; he would grow up to laugh, and make others laugh. He was my friend.It is April 2. Five years ago today a man left, his soul moved on. Although we had not seen each other for many years, he was my friend.In honor of him, I posted this on the obituary remembrance page (it is awaiting approval by the owner, who is most likely a family member and I wanted it somewhere in case it doesn't make it--time marches on and even when we love, we must move on when the pain of loss is bloodline close); it is adapted from Masonic funeral rites, which my dad used to recite:

I extend my sincere sympathy in this hour of sorrow, and I pray that "He who tempers the wind to the shorn Lamb" will give His divine comfort and consolation, and that we all may come to realize that the spirit of our Brother is happy in his Father's house, where "God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes, and where there shall be no more death, neither sorrow nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain, for the former things are passed away."Soft and safe to thee, my Brother, be thy resting place! Bright and glorious be thy rising from it! Fragrant be the acacia sprig that there shall flourish! May the earliest buds of spring unfold their beauties o'er thy resting place, and there may the sweetness of the summer's last rose linger longest! Though the winds of Autumn may destroy the loveliness of their existence, yet the destruction is not final, and in the springtime, they shall surely bloom again. So, in the bright morning of the resurrection, thy spirit shall spring into newness of life and expand in immortal beauty, in realms beyond the skies. Until then, dear Brother, until then, farewell!

In memory of my most wonderful friend, Don Buchanan.

Camp NNWM, Day 3

Daily Prompt: Where Is It?!