Denneal Elise Robinson Huminski 10/10/1975 - 4/5/2006
Just like last year (yup - i copied the sentiments from that post - they are the same), I didn't know what to write here. I still don't but I could not let today go by without saying something - without remembering. Gina, the wise woman that she is, told me that noone is ever truly gone so long as we remember them, so long as we keep their spirit alive within us. I believe that. The best way I can think of to honor her is to share those memories with you. What I would ask is that you respond here (comments are screened) and leave an email address where I can send you a memory that I have of you and Denneal or a story she told me about you. I will keep these private unless you say so otherwise, then I will unscreen the comment and reply here as well. If you wish to leave a story or two for all to see, I would appreciate those too.
We were vacationing at the Outer Banks of North Carolina and wanted to go out for a nice dinner one night. We drove around for a while looking for a place to eat and couldn’t find much open since it was still early in the year. Eventually we found a little antiques place that also had a restaurant (or vice versa) called Port O Call. Denneal got the seafood combo - lobster, shrimp and scallops type thing. I got the prime rib. The seafood was good I am told, but the prime rib was simply the best I had ever had. I told her that and she didn’t believe me until she tasted it. Then, the seafood wasn’t touched again and I lost half of my dinner. It was goooooooooooooood.
What is Dying, by Bishop Brent
A ship sails and I stand watching till she fades on the horizon and someone at my side says “She is gone”. Gone Where? Gone from my sight, that is all. She is just the same now as when last I saw her. Her diminished size and total loss from my sight is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says she is gone there are others who are watching her come over their horizon and other voices take up a glad shout “There she comes!” That is what dying is. A horizon and just the limit of our sight. Lift us up, Oh Lord, that we may see further.
We were vacationing at the Outer Banks of North Carolina and wanted to go out for a nice dinner one night. We drove around for a while looking for a place to eat and couldn’t find much open since it was still early in the year. Eventually we found a little antiques place that also had a restaurant (or vice versa) called Port O Call. Denneal got the seafood combo - lobster, shrimp and scallops type thing. I got the prime rib. The seafood was good I am told, but the prime rib was simply the best I had ever had. I told her that and she didn’t believe me until she tasted it. Then, the seafood wasn’t touched again and I lost half of my dinner. It was goooooooooooooood.
What is Dying, by Bishop Brent
A ship sails and I stand watching till she fades on the horizon and someone at my side says “She is gone”. Gone Where? Gone from my sight, that is all. She is just the same now as when last I saw her. Her diminished size and total loss from my sight is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says she is gone there are others who are watching her come over their horizon and other voices take up a glad shout “There she comes!” That is what dying is. A horizon and just the limit of our sight. Lift us up, Oh Lord, that we may see further.