Lifetimes are made up of memories,
Memories become our life.
Dreams are heartfelt wishes
And places in the past become embedded in our soul.
As I listen to the waves crash on the shore.
I am grateful,
Grateful to have had you in my life.
The calming sound of the waves
Brings a kind of peace to my soul
And I know…
I know memories are our lifeline,
They sustain us and protect our heart.
I know I will remember
I’ll always remember.
And though my heart is hurting
I won’t dwell on the sorrow your passing has caused.
I won’t let my heart harden,
Or allow it to become shallow and empty.
I will reflect on the memories
What a wondrous collection of memories!
All good – I can’t think of one bad.
Only fun-filled times and adventures and happiness and joy.
When I think of you…
I will smile,
I will remember,
I will cry no more.
~ Tammy
Lost on a back road, somewhere between Panama City and Plains, I found myself thinking how much my friend would have loved this. He would have loved the fact that we were cruising along without a clue where we would end up. He would have loved all of the memories that this day was bringing to the forefront. He would have loved the fact that, in only a few hours, friends and family would gather to honor him and celebrate his life.
My friend had quite a life to celebrate. He had quite a life to look back on with happiness and should be proud of how his life has touched so many people in so many different walks of life. My friend was many things to many different people. He was a son, a brother, a husband, a father, a police officer, a community leader, a biker, a photographer, and mainly a friend to all who were a part of his world. My friend Keith, who I always called Red, loved the simple things in life and always made time to enjoy them.
Red spent his lifetime gathering friends to his side and put much more emphasis on these friends than other worldly, material treasures. He welcomed us all into his world with his hearty, bellowing laugh that rang out with pure joy and happiness. He greeted each day with a childlike enthusiasm and closed each down by watching and often time recording the beauty of the sunsets.
Red loved photographing lighthouses and I correlated this to his outlook on life. Red was steadfast and constant and dependable. He was an ever fixed mark. Our friendship, like a lighthouse, was perpetual and ever burning, helping me through turbulent times and shining bright with encouragement. I am blessed – I have had friendships that are a constant in my life. They are magnificent. They give off warmth and a glow that leads myself and others into their safety net and leads us away from the turbulent waters and rocks.
To live is the rarest thing in life… Most people exist, that is all. ~ Oscar Wilde
The language of friendship is not words but meanings. ~ Henry David Thoreau
No love, no friendship, can cross the path of our destiny without leaving some mark on it forever. ~ Francois Muriac
Does thou love life? Then do not squander time, for that is the stuff life is made of. ~ Ben Franklin
I found myself trying to recall the exact moment our paths had crossed.I wanted so bad to remember the exact moment we met. I couldn’t – it seems he was always there. In reflecting back, it must have been the summer of my 8th grade school year around 1975 when I was only 13 years old. That summer was momentous in my life. It was then that I met my friend, my brother, the one person who never judged me, was always routing for me and who later became my link to the carefree days of my youth.
My friend, Red, was a constant during my formative years. He was at my house as much as he was at his own. We were closer than brother and sister and helped each other through our heartbreaks, problems with parents and all of the other trivialities that formed our lives.
Whenever I could not come out and play, Red was always there to load Jack Daniels and cigarettes into my makeshift pulley that I pulled up to my upstairs balcony.
He was always there to give me a ride to the bridge or the poker house or wherever we all decided to meet up.
He was always there right before any date I had just in time to take his hand and mess up my hair (he had to make sure I didn’t take myself too seriously!).
With Red, I learned the correct way to chug Miller Ponies from the tailgate of his pickup truck. With Red, I learned about getting stuck on lonely red dirt roads. Mainly I learned valuable life lessons about laughter and honesty and enjoying the ride.
I remember sneaking out of the Americus movie theater and going to Monroe’s to watch the boys shoot pool and sample the best hotdogs in the world. I remember how much fun concerts could be when you are young and with friends who seem to be the most important things in your life. I remember how much fun we had and all of our escapades when Jimmy Carter ran for president. I remember skipping school and drinking Billy Beer and how fearless and cool we all seemed to be. I remember the pool parties we had and the visits to the graveyard. I remember bear hunting in North Georgia, the famous “lost car” trip to Daytona Beach and watching Marshall Tucker @ Six Flags or Wild Adventures. Not for sure where, but it sure was fun!
I remember all the trips we took to Atlanta to visit Mary Evelyn, Red’s one true love, and all of our crazy adventures there and back home. I remember all the trips back to Plains to visit Red and Mary Evelyn and how Mary always allowed me and Red to remain friends without a bit of jealously or distrust. I remember how she welcomed me into their home and world after the two of them were married. More recently I remember us all dancing @ Harry A’s and Fathoms in Florida and our trips to the farmhouse.
I remember how our group of friends all promised to not let life turn us old and bitter and full of regret. I remember how we vowed to never lose touch. I am thankful to say that Red and I kept that promise. I am thankful that throughout the twists and turns of our lives we both knew that we were loved and that we were truly lifelong friends.
Red was my oldest and dearest friend. To this day, whenever I hear “Drift Away” I think of Red and drift back to Plains and remember the wonderful, carefree days gone by. Thank you Red for all of the crazy, fun filled memories that always make me smile.
