Final Grains of Sand

by David Harder

  When Nate looked up, he saw the face of Dr. Nolan. Tom was smiling and slowly nodding his head.

  “Jim Kreider was a decent, compassionate human being. Because of his generosity, I now readily dig into my pocket and share a buck or two with homeless strangers. Jim has changed my attitude in ways I wasn’t aware of until our team began sharing in Mr. Toncetti’s office. For example, many years ago, as a reward for an excellent presentation, he and I were invited to dinner with individual board members of our company. All of the company members had arrived ahead of us and were seated at a table overlooking the street. To my absolute horror, when Jim and I exited our cab, Jim compassionately assisted a homeless woman sitting on the curb. She was struggling to fit a pair of child’s yellow rubber boots over a pair of filthy adult feet—which seemed like an impossible task. When I looked into the window, the CEO and board members watched in consternation as I desperately tried to pull Jim away from his mercy mission and out of the glaring stares of the restaurant.

  “I can laugh at this story now, but at the time, I was convinced we both would be fired for Jim’s lapse in judgment. I was wrong, of course.” Nate looked up at Mrs. Blanchford and could see the woman subtly patting her cheeks with a handkerchief. “At some point in the evening dinner, Jim requested permission to assist the homeless woman. I, for one, thought he was going to purchase food for her and then send her down the road, but no. Jim invited her to join our table.”

  The room roared with laughter.

  “This is obviously a small sampling of Jim’s humanity, but there are much more. In a moment of time, when we least expect it, we lose dear friends or loved ones. It is the memories we hold in our hearts and share with others that keep these loved ones alive. There will never be another Jim Kreider, and there will never be another you. Cherish each moment you have. Treasure the people who are close to you, for none of us are certain when our journey in this life will end. Most of all, let the life of Jim be an example to us all. Thank you.”

  Nate returned to his seat, and Tom gave him an approving nod. Joe stood and took his place at the podium. He pulled some folded papers from his jacket pocket.

  “Good afternoon, everyone. My name is Joe Langley. I’m a retired school teacher and a neighbor . . . What I mean is, was a neighbor of Jim Kreider. We were great friends, and I even became a babysitter for Jim and Sam’s kids from time to time.”

  Joe looked up at Stephanie, Robert, and Staci and smiled.

  “Poor Staci was always sick when she was little. Jim and Sam would rush her to the doctor or hospital, leaving Stephanie and Robert at my house until they returned. I became their Uncle Joe. Since I worked with kids in school anyway, it wasn’t hard to have them around. Of course, there was that time when Robert, without permission, attempted to cut the lawn by using the riding mower.”

  Robert shifted in his seat uneasily and coughed loudly. Joe chuckled.

  “We better save that for another day. Suffice it to say, Mrs. Miller, our other neighbor, wasn’t too happy, but Robert and I patched things up eventually.

  “Jim would frequently visit my house, and we would watch a game on the television or even share a few beers. During one of our discussions, I shared a desire to become a writer. Nate said Jim was a humanitarian, and I can attest to that. Without my knowledge, Jim went out and purchased several writing workshops for me and presented them as a gift.

  “I discovered Jim yearned to be a painting artist. So, one day, I cleaned out a study in the back of my house and turned it into an art studio. I purchased an easel, paints, and canvas boards and presented it to Jim. Well, the man nearly cried; he was so happy. He struggled with his painting skills and would often roast his paintings in a barbecue pit in my backyard. I eventually purchased some DVDs by Bob Ross and gave those to Jim.

  “If you remember, Bob was a smiling painter with a huge afro hairdo, who could crank out beautiful paintings in an hour. Well, in no time, Jim was duplicating Bob Ross’ work and even getting better. In fact, many of the paintings I was able to save from the barbecue pit you will find displayed in the lobby of this building. I bought Jim more books, and he would study the painting styles. Then he would try to copy them. I think if you look out there at the paintings, you’ll see Jim’s work is impressive.” Joe’s expression turned serious.

  “Home life wasn’t easy at the Kreiders’ because Sam and Jim didn’t see eye-to-eye very often. Many times, the kids were at my house more than at home. After the kids started moving out and going to college, Jim changed his work patterns and started traveling more. The once-busy Kreider house suddenly became quiet.

  “When Sam, Jim’s wife, was killed by a drunk driver, Jim sort of spun out and was depressed. Unlike the funeral we’re having here, Sam’s was dreary, and I think it bothered Jim.” Joe became circumspect. “It really makes one question life, and like Nate mentioned, wonder about why one family would deal with so much tragedy. Sadly, I didn’t find out Jim had cancer until it was too late. I lost a really great friend and a terrific neighbor, and the world lost a fabulous artist.

  “But you want to know what the worst part is?” Joe pointed to the three Kreider children. “These guys have lost both their parents. That’s not fair, and I feel sorry for them.” Joe looked intently at the three Kreiders. “But I want you to know, you still have a family, guys—me, your Uncle Joe.”

  Stephanie, Robert, and Staci all independently nodded to Joe and mouthed words indicating their appreciation.

  “My heart and home are always open to you guys.”

  Joe pulled a handkerchief out and loudly honked into the white material, the noise echoing throughout the auditorium. He wiped tears away and then looked up, abruptly ending his speech. “Thanks for listening.” Joe shuffled back to his seat where his lady friend, Sandra, quietly comforted Joe.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “PASTOR RICHARDS? ARE YOU READY?” whispered Tony as he leaned over several people.

  There had been a long, uncomfortable pause because Mike forgot he was the next speaker. He quickly stood, reverently walked to the podium, and opened his Bible.

  “In John 14, verses one through four, it says ‘Do not let not your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in Me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with Me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going.’

  “The Bible tells us that we have a home in heaven for those of us who are Christians. Our friend Jim Kreider is now in heaven, where he joins his mother, father, older brother, and wife, who preceded him in death. Jim is no longer with us, but he is in a better place with Jesus.”

  Nate leaned over to Dr. Nolan and whispered, “What on earth is he talking about?”

  Tom shook his head. “It’s complicated. I’ll attempt to explain it later.”

  “When Jim and his family joined our congregation, the downtown First Baptist Church, it was just Jim, his wife Samantha, and Stephanie, who was just a baby then. In no time, they added a son and another daughter. I’ve got to say, it’s good to see the Kreider children here with us today—even if they are all grown up now.” Mike looked at Stephanie, Robert, and Staci with a downcast expression. “I just wish we were meeting each other under better circumstances, but we will one day see your parents again in heaven.

  “When his children were in Sunday school, Jim started assisting their teachers. It was great to see Jim actively involved in the lives of his kids at church. Many of their friends were fond of Jim and looked forward to seeing him there on Sundays. In fact, he was well-liked by many in the church. As the children grew up and went off to college, I saw less of Jim and even less of his wife.

  “Jim started visiting me shortly afterward for personal counseling, where he and I would walk together and talk. When his wife was tragically killed, I believed the man would go to
pieces. I sensed he really loved his wife. After her funeral, I saw less of Jim, but I prayed for him every day. I’ll tell you, though, that man loved his children. Jim would sit for hours and tell me about their schools, their relationships, and how proud he was of all three of you.

  “Robert, when you decided to change your major in college, just before graduation, your dad blew a gasket. He got over it, of course, and, in the long run, he was proud that you’re becoming a lawyer. Stephanie, I’m delighted to finally meet your fiancé. Your dad was excited to have a doctor for a future son-in-law. Staci, your dad would share your art with me and proudly proclaim you were the next Picasso.

  “We’re calling this a celebration service today, but for some, it may not feel like a celebration. We lose a father, a brother, a friend, or colleague, and we’re sad. Their voice is silent, and memories fade, leaving grief in its wake. That’s why we have Matthew five, verse four, which says, ‘Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.’ So, the Lord comforts us when we are sad.

  “Therefore, as Christians, we are not only comforted now when we’re grieving, but also in the future, where we have heaven to look forward to. We will miss our friend Jim Kreider, and even though he suffered in his last months on earth, I think he’s looking down from heaven and smiling on us.”

  The room sat in utter silence, staring at Pastor Mike like deer staring into bright lights. Mike suddenly realized he knew so little about Jim Krieder, and his experience with the man paled in comparison to the other team members. He felt embarrassed and ashamed for not developing a closer relationship. Mike’s words sounded hollow and robotic—as if he had just spoken the same words funeral after funeral for over forty years. After an uncomfortable pause, Pastor Mike walked back to his seat. A wave of guilt washed over Mike as he sat down.

  Sensing Mike was troubled, Tom placed his hand on Mike’s shoulder. Mike looked up, and Tom smiled warmly. Dr. Nolan then walked to the front and took his place behind the podium. His usual grimace-smile greeted the folks sitting in the auditorium. Clutched in his hand were his notes, folded length-wise, so Tom spread them on the podium, attempting to smooth the folds of the paper. Tom scanned the auditorium, recognizing many friendly faces. Unfamiliar faces scattered throughout the room reflected anticipation as they waited for Tom to speak. The doctor cleared his throat and began hesitantly.

  “Many folks in here know me. For those who don’t, I’m Dr. Thomas Nolan—or just plain Tom is fine with me. I’ve been a doctor for a very long time, and I remember the day James Kreider was born—so, yes, I guess I’m very old. As a child, James was headstrong but sensitive, talented but also kind. Like all boys, he got into trouble because he was a boy. It didn’t matter if he were careening his skateboard down a hill, which caused an accident I might add, or trying to win a girl’s heart, James Kreider was one hundred percent all-American boy.

  “Not only was I present for James’ birth, but I was also present for his brothers as well.” Tom looked down at the man sitting in the wheelchair on the front row. “It’s great to see you again, Jake. When you’re up on your feet, we’ll have to plan a marathon.”

  Jake chuckled, waved, smiled, and nodded back.

  “Their father, Paul, was a veteran of World War Two and the Korean Conflict. When a man witnesses that much death, it can produce horrific effects. Tragically, their father took his own life, leaving the family broken. A few years later, during the Vietnam War, their oldest brother, Joseph, was killed in action. Jake was the second oldest, followed by Jim. Just before Paul ended his life, their mother, Jane, became pregnant with another child, John.

  “Jane was a hard-working woman of deep convictions. Through prayer and incredible resources, she singlehandedly raised four boys, producing amazing men that any parent would be proud of. For a while, I had James stay with my wife and me. He was dealing with the loss of two members of his family and acting out his frustrations—as anyone would. Unfortunately, being a maturing boy and reaching puberty, his hormones kicked into overdrive, and his affections fell upon our daughter, Charlotte, who was a number of years older.

  “That summer was one of the most difficult I’ve ever experienced, but somehow, a miracle happened, and we avoided a severe crisis. Eventually, Charlotte and James adjusted their relationship and became good friends, but there were moments when I could not see a positive outcome. I thank God I have a beautiful wife who understands and is full of wisdom.”

  Tom glanced at his wife, Susan, and they exchanged a silent conversation—as only married individuals can after many years of living together.

  “During that same summer, I had the opportunity to share my faith with James. He asked a ton of difficult questions, but, eventually, he asked Jesus into his heart and became a Christian. During that summer, I watched an angry, confused young teen find peace and develop into the terrific man we all know.

  “In his teenage years, James became fascinated with golf, and our friendship grew as we spent time hitting balls on the green. Most teenagers develop strength and stamina that we older folks are insanely jealous of, and James was no exception. As his skills in golf improved, his confidence also increased. One particular day, James’ bravado peaked when he decided to tackle a par six, fourth hole by cutting corners.

  “Rather than follow the golf course—which contained an elongated ‘L’ from the tee-off point to the hole—James decided to lob the ball over the tall trees and circumnavigate the bend in the fairway. Mind you, this hole required a par six for a reason.

  “With incredible strength, James smacked his ball, lifting it like a rocket and launching it over the trees, where it was supposed to land near the fourth cup. Unbeknownst to us, standing over the fourth cup about to birdie his ball for a terrific score was our former mayor, Ron Golden. Unfortunately, when James’ ball dropped from the sky, it landed squarely on top of Mayor Ron’s bald head.”

  The room erupted into laughter. Tom smiled to himself.

  “When James and I arrived, Mayor Ron was sprawled on the green and out cold. Fortunately, he recovered, but not without the prominent lump we frequently saw whenever Mayor Ron was on television.”

  Again, the laughter spread through the audience. Tom waited for the room to quiet.

  “After this embarrassing incident, I lost James as my golfing partner because Mayor Ron wanted James by his side. Ron felt he was much safer knowing where James was hitting his ball.

  “James was always a compassionate child, caring about other people in need. In addition to donating blood at our local Red Cross, James would volunteer his time during Thanksgiving and Christmas to help serve food in the shelter soup kitchen.

  “One year, James read in the paper about someone needing a kidney in our hospital. He had his heart set on being a donor and saving a life. After discussing the situation, I suggested to James that he contact the hospital directly. The screening process was lengthy, and, despite his earnest desire to contribute a kidney, he was eventually ruled a mismatched donor. Acts of kindness, like this story, speak of James’ character. He was a man of compassion—as seen in the story shared earlier by Mr. Martin.”

  Dr. Nolan glanced down at his notes and stared for a long time. Anyone close enough could see his tears cascading down his cheeks and landing on the papers in his hands. The room became uncomfortable in the lengthy pause. Suddenly, Tom looked up. He crumpled the papers in his hands and discarded them over his shoulder, papers floating to the stage floor behind him. Tom’s voice was shaky and broken as he fought to deliver his next words.

  “Why is it we wait until someone we care about is taken from us, to share our true thoughts? For weeks, the folks sharing today have sat and discussed James from a multitude of perspectives. We knew nothing of each other until we met in Tony Toncetti’s office. During our meetings, I realized how little we actually know a person. Sure, we know someone, work with them, live next door to them, share a part of our life with them at church or at play, but rarely do we know a p
erson thoroughly.

  “I’ve discovered so much more about James from the other people on our team. Each person has a unique perception of James’ life. It wasn’t until we sat down and, in detail, shared what we knew about this wonderful man, that in doing so, we gained insight into the real James Kreider. Again, I ask, why did it take us so long?

  “It’s a sad commentary that we had to wait until James was gone before we could fully appreciate who this man really was—what kind of man he became—a vision of the real James and how he touched other people’s lives. I stand before you ashamed—ashamed because I didn’t take the time to find out more while James was still alive. I wish I had taken more opportunities to tell him how much he meant to me. I wish I had told him I cared and loved him like a son. He’s gone, and I’ll never have that opportunity again. This is the source of my shame today.

  “This year, my beautiful wife, Susan, and I have been married sixty-five years. They have been the best years of my life.”

  Dr. Nolan looked at his wife and gave her one of his grimacing smiles, and she responded in kind by smiling back.

  “Not a single day goes by that I don’t take the time to tell her how much she means to me and how much I love her. Whenever I speak to our daughter, Charlotte, I do the same thing, expressing my love and appreciation. As I’ve gotten older, and hopefully wiser, I’ve come to the realization of how important relationships are—not just family, but all our relationships.

  “Here we are today, trying to celebrate a life that is now gone from us. It’s too late to express our appreciation and love for James. So how do we change this in the future?”

  Tom looked around the room and let his words sink in. He could see somber faces and some who were wiping tears from their eyes.

  “We start by telling each other today. We look at our friends, neighbors, co-workers, family, and we say to them we love and appreciate who they are—not just empty words of flattery, but meaningful words of truth. I’m serious! Look at the person next to you, especially if you know them, and tell them you care and appreciate who they are. And, if you don’t know them, tell them anyway.”