Be happy again.

I didn’t have to read an obituary. To know the most profound and compelling thing about Ron. Didn't matter that he was Alzheimer-riddled. He was still a remarkable spiritual being. Capable of adapting. To life. As it happens. Even in the worst of times. Ron was able to find spiritual good. In virtually everything. Despite his dementia. That's what I learned. Every time I entered Ron’s world. Not as care-giver. But as genuine spiritual-connected  friend. Ron and I became buddies. The first time we met. When he and Arlene came over for dinner. With me and my Italian amore. One summer night several years ago. So that Julie and Rick could fetch a moment of respite. Suddenly, we all became family. As if it was meant to be. Fated. A blessing. For Ron. For me. For everyone. That’s the way it remains. Even now. We are family. Intimately connected forever. Ron had an uncanny knack. Of picking his true spiritual friends. Kindred souls. In the final weeks of his life, he seemed to be living. With one foot in the physical world. And one foot in the spiritual realm. Now, as I see it,  both feet are firmly planted in the idyllic spiritual domain. Where Ron always wanted to be. I suspect that in the end he craved release from physical shackles. So that he could go about. Exploring the cosmos. All of creation. As spirit. Yes, that’s exactly what Ron probably is trying to convey to beloved daughter Julie and other survivors.  He beckons. Come with me. And edge ever closer to the wonderful and thrilling spiritual side of life. He’s declaring, in no uncertain terms, ‘Dear Julie. Unburden yourself. From physical restraints and mental anguish. And become whole again. Let the spirit be the dominating and freeing force in your life.' Yes, that could go for everyone. But especially for Julie. It's time to listen to father Ron’s spirit. Time to savor his message from the great beyond. Be happy.  That's what I hear your very spiritually alive father saying.  --Jim Broede