No Tombstone...My Tribute to Mom

That sunny day...at 'Marineland' :)

They all have names from 'Twin Oaks' to 'Miller', perhaps 'Oakland' or 'Valley View, many are 'Evergreen' and 'Pioneer,  yet few 'Tumalo' or 'Bilyeu'. But in none lies Elizabeth Anne (Jopp), so in our memory forever she'll stand.

Like watching planes out of LAX, or Marineland on a sunny day…Dancing to the 'Big Bopper', enjoying her every sway. There's graduation in 68' or the camping days in the 'Crazy Eight'. Though no marker in which to drive...the lady called mom...forever will survive. 

A short motorcycle ride SE from home

In simple words they tell of life, like 'loving mother' or my 'darling wife'. Often flowers, a flag, or a cross, placed by one who cared and suffers by their loss. Yet none for Elizabeth Anne, so in our memory forever she'll stand.

Riding bikes and falling too, hand-made blankets for me and you. Laughing, grinning and playin games. Singing Elvis back in the day. Tellin of stories where we get lost...along the way.

Wind and rain mar the words no longer read. They told the story of the parted, the dead. A place to go and say goodbye. I love you, I miss and somedays I cry. But never forgotten our Elizabeth Anne...for this is why...

Viola, a little known community

You gave us love and strength, hope for another day. You taught us with more than words could ever say. Proud you'd be of the life we're living, we learned from the best, that the best is just giving. 

Blooming...a place of rest

In simple words they tell of life, like 'loving mother' or my 'darling wife'. Often flowers, a flag, a cross, placed by one who cared and suffers by their loss. Yet none for Elizabeth Anne, so in our memory forever she'll stand. In our memory forever she'll stand...

Our mother died on May 25, 1989, exactly 26 years from today. Her ashes were rightly spread by our dad Bob Jopp while flying in the airplane they so loved. I'm quirky in the sense that while riding across the county-side on my motorcycle I often will make a stop at a Cemetery. The above blog tells of the thoughts I have at times, reflecting that mom has no marker...yet in our memory forever she stands. Perhaps one day we'll place a bench, a brick and some other marker somewhere. A small airport seems to be the logical choice...Today is Memorial Day. Yes a day for her memorial!

Baseball…Spectator joy!

It was the last day of the tournament, our team had just lost earlier in the morning to be knocked out. I decided to return to the fields after cleaning up to take in a couple games without coaching distractions. The afternoon had turned to a beautiful blue sky with white pillow-cloud type of day. The smell of freshly mown grass, the manicured field, the players warming up and the variety of the color green in the trees, plants and grass all were captured within my view as I rode my GT bicycle back to the ball fields. Riding along right field I leaned against the fence.

'Keith' enjoys the game

It would have been simple enough just to zone out and watch the ensuing game, but something…no someone caught my eye. He sat in his powered little red wheelchair and took in the sight just as I. We spoke to one another couple times and I quickly noticed that he had suffered a stroke that left him in the wheelchair along with slurred speech. I wondered what and where the journey of his life had taken him? How long had he been in the chair? Did he have family and friends that checked in on him? What was his typical day like? Did he ever play baseball himself? I mentioned that the tournament championship game would be played later that day at another field. Sure enough we would say hi in passing at that game as well.

A National Anthem Sung at America's Game

Silverton in pursuit of victory

Later in the week I was back to the varsity diamond, where I initially saw him, to watch the High School team play and win in order to make the playoffs. About the third inning riding up in his little red machine Keith (I learned his name to be) once again joined us along the right field line. This time I learned a little of his story, that he had in fact played baseball and was a third baseman. His smile was beaming as he briefly told of that era of life.

What a game!

The moral of the story for me…to be aware of our surroundings and those who come within view. And two, grateful that physical disabilities don’t have to limit the opportunity to enjoy some of life’s simple pleasures…even America’s pastime…baseball.

Harry Carey was a sports announcer who is most know for his work with the Chicago Cubs the last 16 years of his career.

A Life Sacrificed...Appreciating 'Vapor Time'

Exactly what I saw...in a flash

From morning through days end May 1st, 2015 was 'one of those' most gorgeous of days. And whats a guy to do with a day like that, but to take to the road on his Yamahaug. Yet, for its beauty alone is not reason enough that this day will forever become etched into my memory.

Light bar & Headlight...in need of repair

The morning had me traveling 15 miles south in order to hand deliver a card of sympathy to a friend of more than thirty years. Her mother, one of the 'League of Their Own' baseball players of the nineteen-forties and fifties, had died the day before. And though I never had the privilege to know Julie's mom, I know Julie. This past decade is nothing short of beauty of its own in the manner in which she honored her mother through her care and love.

Crash Bar...Right side quite bent

The afternoon had me dressed quite differently as I was called on to usher for another friend of thirty years. This friend two weeks earlier had died in an automobile accident. Yesterday we honored her life! A life filled with music, a life filled with teaching and story telling. A life with laughter, joy and the concern for others. Barb, you will be missed.

Another view of the 'Crash Bar'

Following the service, I quickly donned my motorcycle gear once again to begin an hour ride south through the Creators beauty, called the Willamette Valley. The sound of my cobra pipes, the wind and perhaps me singing 'How Great Thou Art' at the top of my lungs, were all the ingredients required to make this yet another most wonderful ride. And then...Life is full of 'And thens'. I was only ten minutes from arriving at my destination,  'Camp Koinonia' (where I was set to attend a men's retreat) when in a sudden flash, one life was taken. Where the deer came from and how I was able to keep the bike straight on course... I have not a clue. What I know... that a life was sacrificed, and once again it was not mine. 

Some two thousand years ago Jesus, the Messiah, was sacrificed in my...in our place. As with the deer, I felt nothing, but have everything to be grateful for. Mark Hall says, "Not because of who I am, but because of what you've done. Not because of what I've done, but because of who you are. I am a flower quickly fading, here today and gone tomorrow, a wave tossed in the ocean, a vapor in the wind. Still You hear me when I'm calling, Lord You help me when I'm falling, You told me who I am. I am Yours, I am Yours....Whom shall I fear, whom shall I fear, because I am Yours".

A bit of 'Deer Fur' left behind

At this moment, the significance of yesterday... I don't know. What I do know is that I've been given some additional 'vapor time'. Thirty years? Perhaps! Today, to listen, to not be distracted from life's interruptions. Tomorrow...back on the Yamahaug! Oh, and the day after...removal of deer fur and some repair for the Yamaha :)