The names of four dead men can be found in the contacts list on my phone.
Dead Man 1 (DM1)
DM1 was an active member of a church I joined who was heading up the Men’s Ministry. I didn’t know him well but, in agreeing to lead an accountability group, we spoke and corresponded. He thanked me for my willingness to jump in and handle a certain situation. Shortly after this he was diagnosed with cancer. Over the next couple of years his condition worsened, and he eventually died leaving a wife and two children. I attended his funeral and was touched by the outpouring of love for this man and his family. Although I was not close to him, I have kept his contact information as a reminder that we live in a fallen world and that bad things do happen to people who follow the Lord; that none of us is spared from suffering; and that I am so very thankful I was allowed to raise my children.
Dead Man 2 (DM2)
DM2 is my brother-in-law, Jim. He died last summer leaving a wife and two adult sons who, of course, miss him terribly. While we never lived close enough to one another to do much together, our families were often together for holidays and vacations. We visited Jim and his family in Atlanta, Charleston and the Tennessee mountains. Jim was warm, funny and generous. He knew Jesus. He showed tremendous love and devotion in the way he cared for his wife. I last saw Jim at my oldest daughter’s wedding. While he wasn’t in great health, there was no inkling he had cancer. Unfortunately, he was diagnosed shortly after that and was dead within two months. I miss Jim and am grateful for having known him and being part of his extended family. I keep his contact info for two reasons, one very practical and one very sentimental: 1) his wife, my wife’s sister, uses his phone now; and 2) he’s family – it makes me smile to see his name on my phone and I remember him fondly and know I will smile with him again.
Dead Man 3 (DM3)
DM3 was someone I served with in the Coast Guard. As a reservist, I was mobilized and served on the command staff of a Naval Coastal Warfare squadron overseas (Yes, the Navy is dependent on Coast Guard assistance!). DM3 was an active duty Coastie who volunteered to deploy, and he joined me and another man as the three Coasties on the Navy staff. We bonded instantly and became close. I had several conversations with him about faith and invited him to chapel services. He always politely refused but assured me he had been raised as a church-goer and was a believer – I was never sure, though. When we demobilized we promised to stay in touch, and we did. I had my demobilization physical at his command and we had a good visit and talk. I prayed for him off and on. We emailed back and forth and, as these things go, the emails became more infrequent, but we stayed in touch every few months. I started a new job and emailed my updated contact info to a number of people, including DM3. I didn’t hear back from him, but almost immediately heard back from the other Coastie on the staff. His email began, “I’m so glad you reached out because I lost your contact info. After DM3 died ….” I stopped reading, stunned. I read and reread those words, “After DM3 died…” My friend had died a couple of months before and I hadn’t heard.
I was in total shock. He was young, intelligent and personable. He was a Yeoman, which is an administrative rating, but he volunteered for any number of things; for example, he sent me a picture of him rappelling from a helicopter to a small boat as part of an airborne boarding crew. I couldn’t believe he was gone. I called the other Coastie who had attended the funeral and he filled me in on some details. I spoke to DM3’s supervisor, a Senior Chief, who rounded out the story. DM3 had been at a party, drunk a bit too much, drove home to his condo and pulled into the garage. He passed out with the car running and died from the fumes. The Senior Chief was adamant that it was not a suicide, but a case of carelessness.
While we can never know another’s heart, I realized that I didn’t know where DM3 was in eternity. I have shed tears over that. Perhaps one more conversation, one more phone call, one more email may have provided a catalyst to bring him to God’s grace. The day I found out about his death, I sent an email to a number of men in my church telling them the story and pleading with them to share the good news with those they cared for. I keep DM3’s contact information to remind me that we are never promised time; that we must always be ready to share the gospel; and that sometimes those we love will not know Jesus.
Dead Man 4 (DM4)
DM4 is my dad. He died over five years ago at the age of 85, five years after my mother passed. My dad had Parkinson’s disease and spent the last two years of his life in a nursing home. He didn’t like me very much after that decision was made, but we simply couldn’t provide the care he needed after heart surgery and suffering with Parkinson’s. It was a hard decision, but we both reconciled to it as time passed.
Dad was a pastor. Someone once told me that he had met a lot of preachers, but that my dad was truly a pastor – a man who shepherded and cared for his flock. My grandfather was an alcoholic and he and my grandmother divorced when Dad was four (My grandfather did sober up and we had a good relationship with him). Several years later my grandmother married again. I didn’t know about this marriage until I was about twelve years old and my grandmother mentioned the name of a man I had never heard before, referencing his death. I asked my dad about this man, but he would not say much. Over the years, I gathered that he was also an alcoholic, and probably a mean drunk. I do know those were unhappy years for my dad before my grandmother eventually divorced that man.
Both my parents came from broken homes and I think it made them love my brother and I more fiercely; they did not want to repeat the mistakes of their parents. I doubted neither their love nor their faith. I am more than grateful for being raised in a household that loved Jesus and loved one another, and for a father who surrendered his life to serve the Lord. I keep my father’s contact info simply because he’s my dad and I love him, and I could not bear to delete it.
I called Dad’s number as I was writing this and found, as expected, that it was disconnected. I wasn’t sure if I wanted it to be disconnected, or if I wanted someone else to use the number. That would be symbolic that the world keeps turning, that things keep going when we’re gone.
Four dead men. I am thankful that I will meet at least three of them again. I am broken-hearted that I may not meet the fourth. I treasure the memories of and the lessons learned from each of these men and their deaths. I am eternally grateful that death is not a finality for those that love the Lord.