Gone From My View

By Jerry Mack Grubbs

I lost a friend this week. I didn’t loose him like you loose a shiny penny that drops out of your pocket. I didn’t loose him like a favorite book that is temporarily misplaced. I lost him in life. He is gone from my view but not from my heart. His name is James Marvin Moore but everyone called him Jimmy. He had rough edges just like the rest of us but his personal battle with cancer began to smooth and polish his imperfections.

I felt fortunate to be counted as one of his many friends. He was always anxious to help anyone in need. His voice still rings in my ears. “Mister Jerry, I can get that old dump truck running for you,” he said. And fountains of memories gush forth and flood that day we worked on the old truck together. “Mister Jerry, I’ll help you rebuild that washed out dam if my boss will give me a few days off,” he said. And the next six days were filled with hard work and pleasant conversation.

From our first introduction I asked Jimmy to not call me Mister Jerry. I’m just plain Jerry I told him. “You’re not plain to me,” he said. “When you do something to loose my respect I’ll stop calling you Mister Jerry.” That is how Jimmy was . . . once he set his mind on something there was no changing him. For the most part that attitude about life served him well.

Jimmy didn’t amass the treasures of the earth but he gathered about himself a multitude of friends. Those who judge a man by the cost of his coat would take no notice of Jimmy. While those who view a man from where he started and where he finished the day found a warm friendship in this man who always offered a strong handshake and a soft countenance. I can hear in my mind Jimmy saying, “That man is doing the best he can.”

How grateful I am that I was able to visit Jimmy one last time. During his struggle he lost his life but he didn’t loose his positive attitude. He lost his fight with cancer but he didn’t loose the love and caring concern of his companion and wife. Jimmy lost his beloved pickup to the creditors but on one could repossess his friends. They had been purchased and paid for in full. That price was his loyalty. That price was his love. That price was his gentle open acceptance of others. I will miss him and I will not forget him.

We were friends in life and we are friends in death. Some things are not lost even in death. James Marvin Moore, you may be gone from my view but you are not gone from my heart. I am a better person today because of the tenderness you pointed out in me. In reality, it was through your eyes that you saw that tenderness. It is my responsibility to strive to live up to what you saw in me. I’m still trying.