Uncle Charlie

Daddy's younger brother, Charlie, died last week and was buried today. Here's the obituary...

Bradley, Charles Henry, 72, of Ruskin passed away June 24, 2008. He was born in Baton Rouge, Louisiana to Alfred and Edith. Charlie retired from Tampa Electric Company where he worked as a lineman for 37 years and was a member of IBEW #108. He was a Southern Baptist, a veteran of the Army, and a current member and former Governor of the Moose Lodge #813 in Ruskin, FL. He is survived by four sons, Charles “Chuck” H., Jr., and wife Debbie of Valrico, Timothy A. and wife Kelly of Sundance, Kenneth W. of Clearwater and Christopher R. and wife Kim of Carrollton, TX, step-son Henry Bartlett and wife Stacey of Tallahassee, brother John C. and wife Sylvia of Bascom, FL, two sisters, Patsy and husband Ernie of Ohio and Betty of Iowa and eight grandchildren. Visitation will be Sunday, June 29, from 5:00-7:00 P.M. at Lewers Funeral Home in Ruskin. Funeral service will be Monday, June 30, 11:00 A.M., at 1st Baptist Church of Ruskin, 820 College Ave. West. In lieu of flowers, memorial contributions may be made in Charlie's name to Mooseheart Foundation which is a safe home for children providing a home like setting, and offering education and religious training for residents. Contributions may be mailed to Development Director at Moose International, Mooseheart, IL 60539-1100.


An online memorial with photos from his life are available at http://mem.com/Story.aspx?ID=2507290.

Ben Missing In Action

Still grieving Bert, we now seem to be missing Ben. We last saw him Saturday night--when the neighborhood 20somethings were partying hard. I fear he got hit by a drunk driver.

Monday I checked the animal shelters and called the microchip company. No luck.

Ben was supposed to be an inside cat, but he made it quite clear he want to an outside cat--escaping whenever the door opened and crying constantly to be let out. So, this spring I gave up trying to cloister him. Ben loved his new freedom. He lost weight. He killed a couple of mice and a bird. He hung around on the porch. We went on walks with Bert.

Ben was obnoxious but affectionate. We miss him. I hope by some miracle he will find his way home.

Trek Lime

Bought a new bicycle today--a Trek Lime--at Full Moon Vista. [Michael Davis, a parishioner at our church, works there a few hours each week.] It's exactly what I wanted--a simple bike that shifts automatically and brakes using the pedals. It's a grown-up version of what I had as a kid. I hope to bike to work when the weather is nice and do more recreational biking.

Goodbye, Cuthbert

We euthanized Cuthbert [a.k.a. Bert] today. He had been gradually losing control of the back half of his body while his front half remained in relatively good shape. So, it was very hard to decide when enough was enough. I reached that point a couple of weeks ago. Michael made the decision today. Above is a final photo I took just before we took him to the vet. Below is Michael's tribute to our friend.

Untroubled Joy: For Cuthbert

Love the animals: God has given them the rudiments of thought and untroubled joy.
Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Cuthbert died today. Cuthbert was a 14-15 year old dog of mixed Collie and Labrador breed and John and my companion in life for more than 13 years. Cuthbert simply got old and it finally came time to assist him in his death. It was, of course, an excruciating thing to do.

Everything I would say about Cuthbert sounds trite, but nevertheless true. He was a dog’s dog, a faithful companion, a lover of life. I ran across the above quote from Dostoyevsky while looking for a prayer to say with him as he died. The words "untroubled joy" struck me hard. That’s it! That’s the quality Cuthbert brought to life.

And he, in his dog’s way, was an evangelist of this joy. There were very few people Cuthbert ever met who he could not charm, even a few non-dog people. He was the resident extrovert in our house, making friends at light speed compared to his dads.

Cuthbert was God’s gift to us and to the world, and part of what it means that he had the gift of "untroubled joy" was that he was quite comfortable with that, as most animals are. We humans are too frequently not quite comfortable with the gift that we are to creation, therefore our joy is "troubled." I take that to mean that it is often inaccessible, smothered by life’s myriad anxieties, doubts and fears.

A month or so ago it occurred to me that Cuthbert's tail was no longer wagging. It was a sure sign that his zest for life was flagging and that the end was coming near. This was of massive significance since he always greeted people he knew with a propeller for a tail. That propeller was a sign of his untroubled joy. I remember it well as he ran across the cemetery in my last parish one day carrying something in his mouth that looked like a rock. When he dropped it at my feet I could see it was a turtle, and he was uncontrollably happy that he had caught it!

It is a sad day for us. Our friend is dead. But we do not sorrow as those without hope. The new creation for which we all long has a place in it for creatures with untroubled joy.