Merry Christmas Daddy - Can't believe it has been three years since I wrote the following:
Harvey Joslyn was a rich man. He was rich in all the things that count – Rich in spirit – Rich in faith – Rich in patience – Rich in compassion
His laughing eyes sparkled like sunbeams dancing on the surf and his voice was filled with laughter, especially when he talked about his grandchildren and great grandchildren.
He had a thankful heart and was respected and well loved by family, and his many friends. He spent his life in service – service to his country, to his church, to his Lord and to those less fortunate – always thinking of his needs last. He was a true inspiration – especially during his last few years when he overcame one seemingly insurmountable obstacle after another.
His life had its exciting, out of the ordinary moments – including a Christmas miracle, or two during his childhood. Seventy plus years ago at Christmas time he survived a ruptured appendix – at a time when survival was truly a miracle. Then, there was that time when the family was visiting his grandmother for the Christmas holidays, and he was pushed through a hole on a frozen New Jersey lake and quickly pulled to safety.
He was a man who lived his life, and raised his children by the scriptures and the principles of the Rotary 4-Way Test. So, when he talked about his squadron’s close encounter with flying objects that went undetected on radar screens you knew he was not spinning a tall tale.
That he was a teacher was evident – he taught much by his example. He also made the most of every teachable moment – this was especially true for us in our early years, when we were his captive audience in the backseat. Two-lane roads, Burma-Shave ads, and a stop at historical markers alongside the road were all part of our travel experiences.
Once he returned to Morehead there were the trips down east to get fresh shrimp in his red Barracuda convertible. In later years, when we came for a visit we’d put hundreds of miles on our car as we explored the back roads of Carteret and New Hanover Counties as he regaled us with the history and the used to be’s – you know the line, ‘Right over there used to be”
I recently read something that reminded me of Daddy. He lived his life as if it was a garden. He planted the seeds, tended his garden with love, and reaped what he sowed. In his garden were rows upon rows of ingredients we all need:
There were the rows of peas
Peas of mind
Peas of spirit
And peas of soul
His garden had plenty of squash
Squash indifference
Squash intolerance
And squash selfishness
His rows of lettuce included
Lettuce respect and love one another
Lettuce us be faithful
Lettuce be kind
Lettuce us do good
Lettuce us give thanks
No garden is complete without turnips, and he planted a bumper crop of
Turnip up for service
Turnip when and where needed
And Turnip to help one another
His garden included thyme
Thyme for God
Thyme for church
Thyme for family
Thyme for friends
On Christmas Day 2005, the garden he had been cultivating all of his life was harvested and he went home for Christmas. For his life, his inspiration, and his love we are thankful to the goodness of God.
Daddy & Jean 1954
1 comment:
That is very nice tribute to your Dad.
I just had to comment as my mother was like your dad in some ways.
She had a ruptured appendix when she was 14 around 1936. When doctors removed it they found a scar on it where it had ruptured before. She was a rarity in that she survived at 14 also. She was in the hospital for some time and left with quite a scar where a drain had been.
As to the first rupture, she just remembers being really sick. Her mom fed her certain things. Wish I could remember for sure, I want to think it was fresh figs and soup. They were poor and did not seek medial attention.
She even younger got into poison and survived. They took her to the Doctor that time and he told them she took enough to kill 7 men. And that the poison was counteracting against itself and that's why it didn't kill her. (Sounds strange to me) My grandmother would say moms legs and arms would go stiff and she'd rub and rub them.
And when you lost your father, we were going round the clock with Mom in the hospital. My brother had unexpected died Nov. 30, 2005. (Heart attack) Mom died Jan. 12, 2006. She ended up getting sick a week after my brother's services. Up until then was energetic, spry, and seemingly very healthy. Turned out there was cancer lurking.
Anyway like your Dad she lived her faith and felt her life a miracle. Plus I ,too, had a very special Daddy! Very strong, selfless folks whose lives were very difficult due to the era they lived in.
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