We're all guilty of getting caught up in the everyday details. We start believing our problems are obstacles that are insurmountable. Then every now and again you hear a story that brings you back down to earth and you think, actually I'm pretty blessed. I'm healthy, I have a good family, a job. Might not be the best job but you know, I'm paying for the roof over my head, things could be a lot worse. You hear a story that brings home how luck you are really, in the greater scheme of things.
I got an email today from an old mate. Good lad. We used to be close but as the years passed, life got in the way. Kids, work, you all know the story I guess.
He was always talented musically even when we were kids. Playing on a guitar or the drums or whatever. Wherever you went. Always had time for people and that. Proper fella.
Anyway he sent me this email today. Read it when I got in from the shed and I thought I should share it to remind you all that life is short and should be treasured.
Hope you don't mind.... Sorry I know this site is not the right place but I felt I had to share in this case. Thanks Guys. Stay safe.
Regards
Chris
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Excerpt from email below:
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.....
As a guitarist, I play many gigs. Recently I was asked by a funeral director to play at a graveside service for a homeless man. He had no family or friends, so the service was to be at a pauper’s grave in the middle of nowhere. As I was not familiar with the area, I got lost.
I finally arrived an hour late and saw the funeral guy had evidently gone and the hearse and so on was nowhere in sight. There were only the diggers and crew left and they were eating lunch.
I felt badly and apologized to the men for being late. I went to the side of the grave and looked down and the coffin lid was already in place. I didn’t know what else to do, so I started to play.
The workers put down their lunches and began to gather around. I played out my heart and soul for this man with no family and friends. I played like I’ve never played before for this homeless man.
And as I played ‘Amazing Grace,’ the workers began to weep. They wept, I wept, we all wept together. When I finished I packed up my guitar and started for my car. Though my head hung low, my heart was full.
As I opened the door to my car, I heard one of the workers say, “I never seen nothin’ like that before and I’ve been putting in septic tanks for twenty years.”
I got an email today from an old mate. Good lad. We used to be close but as the years passed, life got in the way. Kids, work, you all know the story I guess.
He was always talented musically even when we were kids. Playing on a guitar or the drums or whatever. Wherever you went. Always had time for people and that. Proper fella.
Anyway he sent me this email today. Read it when I got in from the shed and I thought I should share it to remind you all that life is short and should be treasured.
Hope you don't mind.... Sorry I know this site is not the right place but I felt I had to share in this case. Thanks Guys. Stay safe.
Regards
Chris
_____________________________________________________________
Excerpt from email below:
_____________________________________________________________
.....
As a guitarist, I play many gigs. Recently I was asked by a funeral director to play at a graveside service for a homeless man. He had no family or friends, so the service was to be at a pauper’s grave in the middle of nowhere. As I was not familiar with the area, I got lost.
I finally arrived an hour late and saw the funeral guy had evidently gone and the hearse and so on was nowhere in sight. There were only the diggers and crew left and they were eating lunch.
I felt badly and apologized to the men for being late. I went to the side of the grave and looked down and the coffin lid was already in place. I didn’t know what else to do, so I started to play.
The workers put down their lunches and began to gather around. I played out my heart and soul for this man with no family and friends. I played like I’ve never played before for this homeless man.
And as I played ‘Amazing Grace,’ the workers began to weep. They wept, I wept, we all wept together. When I finished I packed up my guitar and started for my car. Though my head hung low, my heart was full.
As I opened the door to my car, I heard one of the workers say, “I never seen nothin’ like that before and I’ve been putting in septic tanks for twenty years.”