My friend, Jim Andrews, passed away last night. He was 72. I first met Jim, a few years ago, when I was asked to play mandolin at his son’s memorial service. His son was 50 years, Jim was 69. When Jim got up to talk about his son, his words were touching. “My baby boy is in heaven, and I will see him again.” The words, “My baby boy.” have stayed with me ever since. His baby boy was 50, but he was still Jim’s baby boy. After the service and luncheon, Jim and I found ourselves talking, sharing our love of God, music and everything we could talk about. Whenever he talked of his son, I would just listen, not saying a word. Sometimes the best thing to say is not say a thing. He raised his son alone, the mother leaving after the birth of a baby boy. His life was his son. He was so proud of his son. His son had raised a beautiful family, Jim was blessed to have two grand-daughters and one grand-son. Since Jim was 19, his baby boy was his life. As we were saying good-bye, Jim said, “Maybe now I can do all the things I’ve always wanted to do.” I smiled. “I’ve done all I’ve wanted to do…with my son.” He said, as he smiled back at me. Jim would call me every other month and ask about me and my family. I’m going to miss you my friend. I called your phone so I could hear your voice one again. I bet you had one great reunion with your boy. I’m not sad about Jim, but happy, he is with a son, and he is with ‘his baby boy.’
Posted on: Sat, 06 Jul 2013 16:43:50 +0000
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