It will soon be ten years that my father, Calvin Rudolph Trice, passed from this world. I thought I would share some of my favorite sayings of his that illuminate (at least for me) the person that he was. (I don't know how many of these were "original" to him, but they are still good ones):
"Better to keep your mouth shut and be thought a fool, than to open it and remove all doubt."
"If I rest, I rust." (or) "time to mix with activity, lest I burnish and wither away in despair."
"I refuse to have an adversarial relationship with you." (this one he usually used with stubborn employees)
"Never take a strong stand on a weak issue."
"The little fellow just doesn't think the way we do." (usually in situations when dealing with a rather obtuse individuall; a more diplomatic statement than just calling them "stupid")
Dad hated his middle name. It is said his mother named him after Calvin Coolidge and Rudolph Valentino. To most the world, he introduced himself simply as "Cal Trice."
He was not perfect, but he respected people if they returned the favor. But he was "Dad." I see a lot of his good and bad traits in me. So be it. I am better off for the former, and working on the latter.
I still miss him.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Tuesday, March 02, 2010
New Song.....
Hall of Mirrors
The World’s A Dim-Lit Hall Of Mirrors With No End In Sight
I’m Shocked At What I See, I Am Deformed It Don’t Look Right
I Stumble Blindly Through This Darkness, I Can See No Light
I Cannot Comprehend Or Understand What I’ve Become
I Do Not Recognize This Old Man’s Face, My Years Are Gone
I Cannot Move As I Once Did, Though I Still Turn And Run
I Was The One Who Let Them Drive The Nails Into The Tree
I Was The One Who Turned My Back And Didn’t Want To See
I Was The One Who Was Too Proud To Fall On Bended Knee.
And Now I See A Word Shaped Like A Two Edged Flaming Sword
It’s Wielded By The Warrior King, And I Should Call Him “Lord.”
He Tears The Veil Within My Heart, I Feel His Spirit Roar!
See The Mirrors Shatter
Watch The Liar Flee
See The Darkness Scatter
East To West, Into The Sea
This Hall Of Mirrors Has Us Fooled, We Do Not See The Truth
The Lies Flow Easy From Our Lips, Our Tongues Are Worn And Smooth
These False Reflections Make Us Think We Only Need The Bloom Of Youth
We Waste Our Love, Deceived By Beauty Seen Through Lustful Eyes
Blow Our Resources All On Power Trips We “Mega Size”
Chained To This Law Of Flesh, Our Blood Is Spent, But Never Buys.
We Were The Ones Who Let Them Drive The Spear Into His Side
We Were The Ones Who Turned Our Backs And Ran But Couldn’t Hide
We Were The Ones Who Traded Thirty Coins For Suicide
And Now I See The Word Of Love Shaped Like A Two Edged Sword
The Warrior Takes It Up, With Righteousness He Goes To War
My Hall Of Mirrors Falls To Pieces, Now I Stand Restored
See The Mirrors Shatter
Watch The Liar Flee
See The Darkness Scatter
East To West, Into The Sea
See The Mirrors Shatter
Sound The Final Chord
Nothing More Will Matter
When He Comes, He Will Be Lord!
© 2010 Richard C. Trice and TriceTunes, words and music by Rick Trice, all rights reserved.
The World’s A Dim-Lit Hall Of Mirrors With No End In Sight
I’m Shocked At What I See, I Am Deformed It Don’t Look Right
I Stumble Blindly Through This Darkness, I Can See No Light
I Cannot Comprehend Or Understand What I’ve Become
I Do Not Recognize This Old Man’s Face, My Years Are Gone
I Cannot Move As I Once Did, Though I Still Turn And Run
I Was The One Who Let Them Drive The Nails Into The Tree
I Was The One Who Turned My Back And Didn’t Want To See
I Was The One Who Was Too Proud To Fall On Bended Knee.
And Now I See A Word Shaped Like A Two Edged Flaming Sword
It’s Wielded By The Warrior King, And I Should Call Him “Lord.”
He Tears The Veil Within My Heart, I Feel His Spirit Roar!
See The Mirrors Shatter
Watch The Liar Flee
See The Darkness Scatter
East To West, Into The Sea
This Hall Of Mirrors Has Us Fooled, We Do Not See The Truth
The Lies Flow Easy From Our Lips, Our Tongues Are Worn And Smooth
These False Reflections Make Us Think We Only Need The Bloom Of Youth
We Waste Our Love, Deceived By Beauty Seen Through Lustful Eyes
Blow Our Resources All On Power Trips We “Mega Size”
Chained To This Law Of Flesh, Our Blood Is Spent, But Never Buys.
We Were The Ones Who Let Them Drive The Spear Into His Side
We Were The Ones Who Turned Our Backs And Ran But Couldn’t Hide
We Were The Ones Who Traded Thirty Coins For Suicide
And Now I See The Word Of Love Shaped Like A Two Edged Sword
The Warrior Takes It Up, With Righteousness He Goes To War
My Hall Of Mirrors Falls To Pieces, Now I Stand Restored
See The Mirrors Shatter
Watch The Liar Flee
See The Darkness Scatter
East To West, Into The Sea
See The Mirrors Shatter
Sound The Final Chord
Nothing More Will Matter
When He Comes, He Will Be Lord!
© 2010 Richard C. Trice and TriceTunes, words and music by Rick Trice, all rights reserved.
Monday, August 17, 2009
“Why? Oh, why did he have to do this to himself?” the anguished cry came sobbing through hands covering the woman’s face, beseeching no one in particular…indeed, no one had the answer.
The experience had begun 45 minutes earlier. I had just arrived home for a quick lunch, and was just about to sit down to eat, when the phone rang. It was a friend of mine, an officer with the state police.
“I need to ask you a great big favor,” he began. “We just received a call from the Clovis Police Dept.,” he continued, and my heart leaped because I have family in that town.
“Okay…” I said gingerly, not wanting any bad news.
“I need to go up to Sugarite State Park (just northeast of us) and find a retired couple camping up there, and then I need to inform them that their son has killed himself.” He paused for a second. “And as the department has no active Chaplain, I thought I’d ask you to ride up there with me to meet with them.”
“Sure. When?” I asked.
“Right now,” he answered. “I’ll be by in a few minutes.”
I hung up the phone, and quietly put my lunch back in the refrigerator.
The officer came by my house and picked me up, cleaning paperwork and things off the passenger seat of his cruiser. “My guests usually don’t ride in this seat,” he said. I joked with him that if it was easier I could ride in the back, thereby really give the neighbors something to talk about. I realized I was only trying to take my mind off the sobering task at hand, and so on the 15 minute ride up the canyon, we talked.
“How many of these calls have you had to do?” I asked. “Four or five,” he answered, “and they’re never easy.” He went on to say how he never, ever knows how his day is going to go. He had started out this day chasing some cows off the interstate on the Pass…on foot…; went on to arrest and take some “bad guys” off to jail just a bit earlier, and then got this call.
We stopped at the Park office to find out where our people were camped, then drove on up to the campsite. An older, but spry, lady came out of an RV, wearing sensible summer slacks and blouse, a cap to keep the sun off, and a beautiful smile. “I didn’t do it,” she quipped, holding her hands up in mock surrender. We exited the cruiser, smiled politely at her nervous attempt at humor, and asked if her husband were also here. She said he was, and the officer then asked if we might visit with them both inside.
How do you break such news? What tone of voice does one use? Do you stand or sit? “Your son was killed today…” Words all of us at some time or other have imagined would be so horrible to hear; but unfortunately words many have heard, and experienced first hand.
And here I found myself in a rare, somewhat unusual role. During the entire conversation I kept being struck with the thought that I was going to be, forever, indelibly imprinted on this nice couple’s memories as being the bearer of terrible news; the person who stood at the dividing line, at the exact point in space and time at which they passed from being blissfully ignorant of what had happened, to the swift plummet into despair and grief.
(“Oh dear Father, give me the words to say,” I whispered in my spirit).
“I don’t think I can do this!” sobbed the mother who had never intended to outlive a child, even at this age. “I don’t know how to do this!” Her stoic husband, tears also streaming, reached over and lovingly, wordlessly, stroked her beautifully silvered head.
“You’re not expected to know how,” I said to her, taking her hands in mine. “Neither do I,” I continued, “but God knows how to do it.” She squeezed my hands, and peered wetly, intently, into my face, searching for something…for anything.
“Then I’ve got to keep my faith strong,” she whispered. “Please pray for us.”
And I did.
“My friends, be glad, even if you have a lot of trouble. You know that you learn to endure by having your faith tested. But you must learn to endure everything, so that you will be completely mature and not lacking in anything.” James 1:2-4
The experience had begun 45 minutes earlier. I had just arrived home for a quick lunch, and was just about to sit down to eat, when the phone rang. It was a friend of mine, an officer with the state police.
“I need to ask you a great big favor,” he began. “We just received a call from the Clovis Police Dept.,” he continued, and my heart leaped because I have family in that town.
“Okay…” I said gingerly, not wanting any bad news.
“I need to go up to Sugarite State Park (just northeast of us) and find a retired couple camping up there, and then I need to inform them that their son has killed himself.” He paused for a second. “And as the department has no active Chaplain, I thought I’d ask you to ride up there with me to meet with them.”
“Sure. When?” I asked.
“Right now,” he answered. “I’ll be by in a few minutes.”
I hung up the phone, and quietly put my lunch back in the refrigerator.
The officer came by my house and picked me up, cleaning paperwork and things off the passenger seat of his cruiser. “My guests usually don’t ride in this seat,” he said. I joked with him that if it was easier I could ride in the back, thereby really give the neighbors something to talk about. I realized I was only trying to take my mind off the sobering task at hand, and so on the 15 minute ride up the canyon, we talked.
“How many of these calls have you had to do?” I asked. “Four or five,” he answered, “and they’re never easy.” He went on to say how he never, ever knows how his day is going to go. He had started out this day chasing some cows off the interstate on the Pass…on foot…; went on to arrest and take some “bad guys” off to jail just a bit earlier, and then got this call.
We stopped at the Park office to find out where our people were camped, then drove on up to the campsite. An older, but spry, lady came out of an RV, wearing sensible summer slacks and blouse, a cap to keep the sun off, and a beautiful smile. “I didn’t do it,” she quipped, holding her hands up in mock surrender. We exited the cruiser, smiled politely at her nervous attempt at humor, and asked if her husband were also here. She said he was, and the officer then asked if we might visit with them both inside.
How do you break such news? What tone of voice does one use? Do you stand or sit? “Your son was killed today…” Words all of us at some time or other have imagined would be so horrible to hear; but unfortunately words many have heard, and experienced first hand.
And here I found myself in a rare, somewhat unusual role. During the entire conversation I kept being struck with the thought that I was going to be, forever, indelibly imprinted on this nice couple’s memories as being the bearer of terrible news; the person who stood at the dividing line, at the exact point in space and time at which they passed from being blissfully ignorant of what had happened, to the swift plummet into despair and grief.
(“Oh dear Father, give me the words to say,” I whispered in my spirit).
“I don’t think I can do this!” sobbed the mother who had never intended to outlive a child, even at this age. “I don’t know how to do this!” Her stoic husband, tears also streaming, reached over and lovingly, wordlessly, stroked her beautifully silvered head.
“You’re not expected to know how,” I said to her, taking her hands in mine. “Neither do I,” I continued, “but God knows how to do it.” She squeezed my hands, and peered wetly, intently, into my face, searching for something…for anything.
“Then I’ve got to keep my faith strong,” she whispered. “Please pray for us.”
And I did.
“My friends, be glad, even if you have a lot of trouble. You know that you learn to endure by having your faith tested. But you must learn to endure everything, so that you will be completely mature and not lacking in anything.” James 1:2-4
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)