We are in the shallows at the mouth of a creek. I wonder what will we find.
A time came when, to help his father, Paul bought several acres in the middle of the old family place. After acquiring the land, he could have his house in the middle of the woods. He had to build an access road to his property because he had no frontage.
Sedate, easy, being, Paul watched the seasons pass; brightly colored spring into hot, dry summer into cool, bountiful fall, into cold, wet winter. The price of oil crashed. There was little work in the oil fields. He was laid off.
Paul and his present wife, Rose had drawn plans for the house they wanted. With no work, Paul had time, so they bought an old house, tore it down with their own hands, and used the material to build a house to their plans in the middle of the woods.
We are on the bank of the river now. I don’t know what to do. Just wait, I guess.
Time passed. I moved away. We still visited, but it did not matter whether we could be with each other or not. We were connected.
One fine fall night, I received a call from Rose. Something had happened. I would be there the next day.
When I got there, I found that Paul had bought the 20-horsepower outboard he had wanted for so long and put it on my boat which he had kept when I moved. He took the boat and motor to the river to try them out. That was three days ago. No one has seen him since. The boat and motor were found, but nothing else.
Divers have been here two days. No one knows what could have happened.
I know the river quite well, but no man knows the river like Paul. I have seen him swim in the main current when it was raging, so if something had happened, he could swim out.
Here comes another search party. What? You said they found his body?
I asked them what happened. No one knows. As I talked with the other searchers and friends, I found out that his body had bloated with gas that formed as it started to rot. As it bloated, it began to float. The current took his body down river until it hung on a snag, where it was found.
Another death. A little closer this time.
What of death? I know not! But this I do know; Paul’s death is an affirmation of faith for me. The synchronicity of the last few years of his life … he found the “good” woman, built his house in the woods, got his “20” motor, then died on the river he loved. He was fulfilled.
Maybe it will not take as long a time between post since the holidays are over, but I am going to try a topic that might take a lot of my time to write.