Goodbye to the Great Canoeist

This blog began several years ago with a theme of Ozark streams, canoeing, and kayaking.  This Saturday we will bid a formal farewell to the man who introduced me to the world encompassed by these great themes.  My dad died last Thursday morning at the age of 84 years.  He passed away while on a "bucket list" trip to a place that he loved.  All of us in his immediate family were ill at ease about him undertaking this trip, as ill as he was.  However, he died doing exactly what he loved to do - tackling the next challenge.

When I was very young my father bought a 1947 seventeen-foot aluminum Grumman canoe.  (Grumman Aircraft was just transitioning to peacetime, recreational production.  This canoe was built to withstand the Apocalypse!).  I don't think my dad knew all that much about canoeing.  However, as was the case with everything he approached in life, he learned quickly and thoroughly.  That began my own passion for vessels designed for moving water and for the adventures on which they could take us.  Right up until the last half decade Dad and took a canoe float together about once a year.

I think my father loved river trips because they embodied his approach to life.  When floating a stream you can't focus on what's behind you.  Your attention has to be on what stretch of the river you're in right now, and on what's ahead of you.  Sometimes you won't know into what kind of water the flow is taking the boat.  But that's the adventure of it; there's always something new ahead.  That's how my dad viewed existence.  The future is filled with uncertainty, possibility, danger, and adventure.   Don't fear it.  Paddle hard into it with hope and courage.

I know people who spend a lot of time looking backward.  They long for a time that once was, which, in their minds or memory, was ideal.  They spend a lot of time in sadness, anger, or fear of "the way things are."  And the future causes them more fear and dread than excitement.  All this is understandable.  I lean that way sometimes myself.  My dad did not.  He believed that, whatever the future had in store, God was already there.  All else in life may change, but the One who came to us in Jesus does not.  So accept the next challenge, wade into it gusto, and paddle with joy.  That was my dad.

Paddle on, Bill Posegate.  The best is yet to come.  And I will see you around the next bend in the river...some day.