Pop

 

Walter R. Peeler. I called him Pop. We only shared a few years together but in retrospect I believe I got the best he could give before God called him home. I was twenty years old and away at college when he passed. Our last three years before I went off to college were our best. I began to listen to him and not judge him. Up until I was sixteen I seemed to always be at odds with this man who talked in metaphoric circles. I began to sit still and take notice to the life he wished he had and the life he wished for me. I finally understood that it was not rants and waves that I was being engulfed with but his heart. A heart filled with the hope of me being a good man, a better man. He frustrated me at times because he never would give me a straight answer. It was usually a question for a question. He required me to think before answering his question. He passed away suddenly but it was as if he squeezed all of him into all of me in those three years. I wish so much that I could let him know that I am a good man striving to be a better man. I wish I could have shared all the milestones in my life that he wished for me. The day I pulled away from the curb to start my journey in life I think he knew I would be alright. Though our time together was short, his effect on me has been profound. I was his Timothy and he was my Paul. Proverbs 27:17 says iron sharpens iron. Glad The Tomb Is Empty.