ROY MACKENZIE

You will never have the privilege of knowing Roy and his wife Lillian. They were in their 80's when I started ministry in Oak Lawn, RI> It was late fault and they were warning people over 80 to get their flu shots. Roy and Lillian didn't want to get flu shots, but I arrived one day and drove them after I had convinced them, to get our shots. Two weeks later Roy died...of the flu. and yours truly learned a valuable lesson in life and ministry.

Lillian said to me "I don't think that Roy wanted to get the shot..." It is easier to let others make important decisions for us, as we can blame them if things go awry. In my ministry, I listened to people, and helped them explore the options, but only so the person could make, for them , what was a correct decision for them. I never told people, after this moment, what they ought to do...even when family members or friends of the person I was talking to put pressure on me "He (she) trusts your wisdom..."

I have FIVE drs. working on my current health, all part of the same grouping, who referred me to the next Dr. and they are disagreeing with the decisions made by the next Dr. in line. In the process they have forgotten about ME...I have been saying for months that there is something wrong, but they have disagreed...and to be honest, I don't trust them anymore to give me the facts, the truth, so that I can make, what is for me, a correct decision...

I am overwhelmed...and only as I think back to Roy, and had I LISTENED TO HIM...it might have changed the outcome....

APRIL 6, 1993

I just had a phone call from Heather in Woods Hole, as she travels to the Vineyard, to spend the night with a friend. Tomorrow with tear-filled eyes she will drive to that quiet spot where Phyllis is buried.
Jennifer will spend the day with her family, and with tear-filled eyes might remember that she was playing the piano for her mother, as the latter reached out and left this earth to touch the face of God. I will observe quietly and thank God that I had the joy of being married to her for almost 24 years, and to be father to Heather and Jennifer who remind me so very much of their "mom."

She died during Holy Week 1993, her Memorial Service was held in St. Augustine's Church on the day before Easter...but her shadow encompassed, and still does, so much more. On the hot day in Syracuse, NY when we were joined in marriage by our fathers' officiating, we knelt on a piece of drift wood from Otsego Lake, and Pathfinder Lodge where we met and fell in love.

The words imprinted were 'IF GOD DIDN'T CREATE ALL THE BEAUTIFUL THINGS DOWN HERE...
WHO DID?" They were written by Linda Hart. As we pause tomorrow, unashamedly with tears in our eyes, we shall rejoice that we had the joy and pleasure in sharing daily life with one of the most beautiful creations of God. And we shall be thankful...

PHYLLIS EILEEN CASH SANBORN

I have a dream

Forty years ago Dr. Martin Luther King was assassinated. I was at Andover Newton Theological School, Phyllis was at Hillsdale College in Michigan. She was on tour with the college Choir that day and they were at a concert in downtown Detroit. They performed Mozart's "Requiem" in honor of and in memory of King... the solo "Pie Jesu" was a favorite of Phyllis.

Fifteen years ago she died of pancreatic cancer, and a young singer named Patty Howell came home from college to sing the Pie Jesu in her memory...and her dream, as with King, lives on in the family who loved her and shared in her dream...

Dr. Dean

Dr. Vernon Dean of English origins spoiled Phyllis and I, in our first Church and community of Bain-bridge, NY. In the middle of the night, when one of the girls, was very sick, he would come to our home...as well as when Phyllis or I were ill. Before the day of 24 hour pharmacies or medical specialists we had Vernon Dean...little did Phyllis and I realize how blest we were, to have someone who cared ABOUT US, as people, not as a pregnancy or kidney stone.

I have a meeting at 9 on Wednesday to consult with my FIFTH Dr. to discuss his performing a risky biopsy on me. None of these Drs refers to the growth I have within me, as cancer, yet I know that the purpose of a biopsy is to discern what kind of cancer I have. Each charges over $400 per visit to tell me what they want to tell me...NONE has told me of a blood test, which can be done before a biopsy is performed, to discern whether the growth is malignant. They haven't told me, because if they did do this blood test, it just might mean that I will not need their expensive specialty.
So, the question seems to be who are these specialists concerned about? my whole being as dr. Dean was, or Peter the tumor man? The blood test may show a malignancy, but I will have arrived at this decision in the correct way...

He is risen

This is my first Easter without my father and I tried going to bed early so I could block the emptiness I am feeling. The man who baptized me in Woonsocket.RI on Easter night in 1952. He who brought alive the meaning of Easter in his and my mother's living. In a few hours, I shall wearily rise and drive across route 192 to sit in my mother's apartment with her on this, our first Easter without him by our side.

One does not visit with mother anymore, rather one sits WITH her, while she sleeps, and occasionally opens her eyes and smiles at me, and we share an understanding heart. Ringing in our ears will be the joyous Alleluias of Easter Day, of the sunrise services at Hook Mountain, the rock garden which my dad created on the pulpit in Nyack...the orange cans...the Easter Lilies, breakfast at the Aquinnah in Gay Head. In our own way we shall rejoice that it is Easter...oh she and I know all the correct words, the familiar triumphant words and music, and the meaning of believing in His Message.

She and I shall spend the day together...will talk about how much we miss him, and Phyllis and David and the others...we will feel the emptiness of his vibrant being with us, and we shall rejoice in knowing that because of Easter, and the old old story, my dearest friend, her husband of over 60 years is still rejoicing with the Lord....

HE IS NOT HERE...