A Day in a Life

    A sliver of sun spread glorious rays of color from just above the distant peaks. The azure sky beguiled crimson and gold. The volley from the honor guard brought him out of the cloud-streaked sky.
    "Ashes to ashes and dust to dust..."
    He looked at the priest with contempt and he felt the blood rise as the frocked old man threw a handful of dirt on the casket. The dirt thumped hollowly in the hole.
    You are so wrong, he thought, he was never dust--never. He sniffled a tear back. He was the greatest man I've ever known. And probably ever will he thought sadly.
    He closed his eyes as the ornate box was lowered slowly into its final resting place. The crowd melted away from him in muffled hushes. He didn't notice. He closed his eyes tighter and a sense of his grandfather swept over him. He remembered a day when he was eight years old.
    The sun was rising quietly and the lake glistened softly in the early dawn. They were sitting on a tree that had washed up on the water's edge long ago. It was weathered smooth and white. The elder man, wearing a hat that had seen many of these adventures, was baiting the hook on the boy's line--carefully wrapping the worm to hide the snare. The boy watched intently as the time-hardened hands deftly finished the job.
      The old man looked over and smiled. "See how easy it is, Jack? Them worms just wrap around there just like God intended." He handed the boy worm, line and pole. "Now...cast her way out there like I showed ya."
      The boy smiled and, grabbing the pole with a measured grip, released the catch and whipped the worm-laden hook towards the center of the lake. It splashed softly forty yards from shore. He reset the latch and sat down next to his grandfather.
      The old man smiled his approval and tossled the boy's hair. The boy smiled in satisfaction. The old man began to bait his own hook. The boy looked up at him puzzzled.
    "Grandpa? Did God really make worms so we can put 'em on a hook and catch fish?"
    "Sure he did, Jack. Worms are good for all sorts things but the important part is you love to fish don't ya?"
    The boy noddded vigorously. "Especially with you, grandpa."
    The old man smiled at the affection. "Well, ya see, if you love it, no matter what it is, God had it in mind...Damn!" He sucked his thumb where the hook had jabbed him. The boy paid no attention to the outburst and sat quietly in contemplation. He again looked up at the old man.
    "But...why is there hate? I mean...wars and people killing people and me hating that no-good Johnny Adams. If God made the world, how can he let such things happen?"
    "Well..." and the old man pondered for a moment, "let me tell ya. And it's taken me a lotta years to figure this out...but, it's kinda simple." He stood and cast his line into the water. He reset the reel's catch as he sat back down next to the boy. "You see Jack, in all the world there is love and hate and alot of in-between. But, the one thing that is always true is that hate is easy to understand. You ask a thousand people what hate is and you'll get pretty much the same answer every time. But," and he held up one finger, "you ask the same thousand people what love is and you'll never hear the same answer twice. I'm sure love is God. Hate is man's invention." He looked at the boy for a reaction or a sense of understanding. The boy stared at the line slowly dropping beads of water where it entered the lake.
      "I love you, grandpa."
      The old man smiled and threw an arm around the boy's shoulders. "I love you too, Jack." The sun rose slightly higher. There wasn't a sound.
      The first shovelful of dirt echoed dully from the ground. He opened his eyes and watched as the two men alternated shoveling dirt onto the casket. Jack reached over and grabbed a handful of dirt. A tear rolled slowly down his cheek. He looked blankly at the dirt in his hand. Effortlessly and emotionessly, he tossed it into the hole. He turned and took a step. A small movement in the pile of dirt caught the corner of his eye. A worm wriggled mightily to go back from where it came. Jack reached down and grabbed worm with its surrounding dirt. He smiled sadly as the worm continued to struggle. He stuffed the entire handful into his suit pocket. He slowly walked away. His heart was heavy with love.