Something So, So...

Forever, really I think it was forever, ago or at least as long as I can remember. I LOVED drinking milk ice cold out of the refrigerator at grandpa Jones' there was something so extraordinary about that vitamin D.

Did that ring of dried milk on the pitcher give the contents some added flavor?

Was it the other open containers of heaven knows what being cooled by the same air?

I'm not sure and I ever thought I'd taste that again. In the eleven years since grandpa's death I've drank milk, mostly soy/almond or other from the store bought container...

Yesterday, Kelly asked me to pick-up some milk and orange juice on my way home. I did. I walked in the door holding both in my left arm like footballs, babies, etc. Because i had a bag of pastries in the other. As my entrance to the kitchen came, so did the bobble...ends up. I saved the donuts and the orange juice. The 2% wasn't so lucky. Suddenly the floor was white, the jug lie there pulsing, spilling milk from a strange slit in the handle, as if repulsed by the remaining contents.

Best solution for the remaining milk?

Glass pitcher.

Enter flood of memories from who knows when those sacred moments spent at the home and grounds of Rev. A.F. Jones. I gave a quick eulogy those many years ago at his funeral. I read from Hebrews 11 the so called "hall of faith" he really showed me a faithfulness to Jesus, the likes of which, I'd never seen. It was only a week or so before his death that he lead an unscripted prayer with his great-grandchildren. There's no process for inductees as far as I know to that hall so in my wisdom I added him. Along with the faithful teaching of biblical values their were many, many things grandpa also included lessons of balance, forgiveness and laughter. It was around that dinner table that I first heard Bill Cosby: Himself, in the yard I leaned to shoot, watching the news I learned of his great compassion for the world.

I was a disciple of my own grandfather, I'm not sure (cuz I never asked and he didn't mention it to his grandson-disciple) if or theology would all align but the man taught me that that doesn't matter if we can't laugh and love and forgive.


I'll raise a glass of milk from that pitcher tonight. Nasty as it may be, to his honor.