“Raising a
teenager is just like holding onto a wet bar of soap. If you don’t hold on tight enough it will
slip out of your hands, if you hold on too tight, it will shoot out.” Darrow
Richins
I
recently attended the funeral of my step-uncle.
Darrow had married my Aunt Puff about 15 years ago not long after uncle Ray
passed away. I never made enough time to get to know this man who made it to 88 years before he was taken.
Darrow
was laid to rest in a casket that his son had built him by his request, because
he could not bear to have anyone pay the prices that funeral homes ask for
their boxes. “I just need a pine box…”
was what he always said. It was a
beautiful pine box with his ranch’s brand on each end, lariat rope for carrying
handles, and leather saddle straps to hold it shut. I am sure he is resting in peace right now.
I
learned that Darrow was a simple man who shunned excess and who genuinely cared
for the other human beings who happened to occupy nearby space, no matter who
they were. I learned he was a no
nonsense teacher to his kids, but a playful man who had made time to entertain
and enjoy his family. I learned that he
was wise and generous, all through stories told by his 5 children. Some of their stories begged me to add them to
my repertoire as a storyteller. (I was
given permission gladly by my cousins.)
Story
is the retelling of what happened, what could have happened, why it happened
and what to do if it happens again.
Story brings us closer together as a human family and keeps alive those
who have turned the last page of humanity.
If you take the time to listen, there are stories being told, good
stories. You never know when you will
find one, or when one will find you.
Stay alert!
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