Our neighbor, friend, and owner of our little house died a few weeks ago. Tony was in his seventies and died suddenly. He just fell over in his kitchen with his wife at his side. Todd was there when it happened and tried to revive him. There was a party in his honor in the park Saturday. A big tent was put up and a bonfire was started in the fire pit, and there was food and drink and laughter all night. People came from everywhere....California, New York, Hawaii. Hundreds of people were there. It was the most joyful celebration of death and life that I have been to.
When Todd and I first met Tony and his wife Jane, we knew we were with some great people. They showed us around what would soon be our new home, and had a sweet dinner prepared for us under the trees. They took time to get to know us. The way I feel about Tony was echoed in the statements that everyone else made all day at the party. He made you feel special, worth something, and loved. He saw the good through the flaws. He saw beauty in what most people thought was ordinary. Tony made Todd and I feel like a simple life with God was still possible.
Tony dreamed up this wonderful neighborhood we live in. He loved the natural beauty here, and wanted to create a place where neighbors were friends and were involved in each other's lives. We are so thankful we get to share in that dream.
For the last two years, when I left for work each morning I would see Tony walking his dog through the park and over the little bridge to go pray at the hut on the other side of the creek. This place has felt so odd and empty not seeing him like I usually do. But after the party this weekend and meeting so many of Tony's friends, I think the emptiness has been replaced with love.
I do know that I can never walk through our park again without thinking of him, and I am glad for that. He is someone I want to remember.
"Ring the bells that still can ring.
Forget your perfect offering.
There's a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in."
Forget your perfect offering.
There's a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in."
