Reflection - Living as Art - for Joe Debolske

I don't have any pictures for tonight's Reflection, only words. Only words, in a world culture hyped up on speed, abbreviations, acronyms, emoticons, & life in turbo in the guise of human communication. A world culture that, interestingly, reverts instantly, instinctively, to the primal fundamental wish to shift from turbo to REVERSE in the face of death, and then has nothing but words left. Words like 'Why?' And 'Oh, God!' And the wailing, prevailing 'NO'!

Pictures do NOT always speak 1,000 words. This has been that kind of week. Pictures of grisly bus crash wreckage in a cold, barren, dark canyon = too much information. Pictures of a perfectly alive young man, now dead = too little explanation. You see, it was words that gave me the truest sense of Joey DeBolske's life. Some words provided specifics: hockey, humor, and bonafide helpfulness. Other words provided the ongoing voice to my confusion, grief, and sense of impotence.

No, words are not enough. Not even close. Words are no substitute. Words are echoes of grasping, gasping hearts. But they communicate nonetheless! What I have known in Joe's mother, Peggy, and his Aunt Terrie, his cousins (my other sons) Aaron and Cory, I now know were living aspects within Joe. How glad I am to know that! And what I didn't know about Joe seems very small in the face of the testimonies of SO MANY, giving evidence to the imprint his life created, so indelibly. I want to remember for all of my own life this sensation I carry with me right now that Joey is everywhere, as opposed to 'just gone'! I want to tell everyone of my certainty that Joey is permanently breathing through the hearts of his parents, his brother and sisters, his aunts and uncles, his amazingly broad circle of family, friends, acquaintances, and hockey buds!

No, it's not enough. Not even close. Wouldn't we all take Joe back, instead, in one beat of those remembering hearts? Yes. Absolutely. I, personally, would love to actually see him hug his mom. Still, it's obvious from my words, your words, OUR words, that Joe took his moments, one by one, and created a personal art of living which is now his legacy. And I'm so glad for that, too.

Rest sweetly, young Joe. Rest quietly and at ease. Your life's imprint encompasses more than you might ever had had occasion to imagine, comfort both small and also magnificently large for those here to mourn, remember, & celebrate you, for those here who will keep your legacy alive.