And, I can never count blessings without the Professor's face showing up front and center. He grabs my books as soon as they are written and will honestly answer "what do you like best about the book, least?" He doesn't tell me what I want to hear. He tells me what I need to know. This is a friendship born in Heaven. God, I love his words.
I love the friendship of the Deacon, for one main reason... the Deacon is just basically a good man. In reality, how many of those are really out there? Oh yes, I treasure the words of this good man.
Though his home in the North Woods is too far away to be in the Thursday lunch crowd, I love the words of my oldest friend. I love to remember the days we spent before things got complicated and in a place to which I want to return but can't because it no longer exists. I remember walking along Leonard Street in days before there were wives and children and bills and jobs. I remember just talking and we still do. How many people have a friendship that has lasted over fifty years? I do.
Yes, I love to count my blessings and do it quite often, not just on Thanksgiving day. I learned years ago when I called my father from work to tell him Happy Birthday and that I loved him. I didn't know those would be the last words he would ever hear. He died a half hour later. I learned then that telling people you care for them and you love them is one of the most important things a human can ever do. And yes, I love the Bishop, the Professor, the Deacon and my life long friend in the North Woods, and I'm not ashamed to say it.
Happy Thanksgiving,
Dan
