In case anyone was wondering where I’ve been since January, I’ve been in somewhat of a dark place.  My father, Mr. Bobby Julius, “Sr.”, passed away on January 28 of this year just weeks after turning 66 on New Year’s Day.  Dad was the ninth of ten children, and only one child remains with us.  But my pops was quite the character.  While time will not allow me at present to embellish on his legacy, I will say these few things:  My pops was a native Alabamian from Pike Road (suburban/rural Montgomery), and had a full-blooded Indian grandmother from the Blackfoot Tribe.  He migrated to Detroit in 1970 and began working at what was known at the time the Chrysler Corporation. A very hard working, joke-telling person who was also no-nonsense as well.  He courted my mother, married her, and two boys were born simultaneously from that union, but sadly only one of us made it home alive.  Hard times had befallen a lot of plant workers at the time, and dad was one of them, so he ended up doing some janitorial work.  Sadly, my parents marriage went south, and pops had hit rock bottom after years of alcoholism.  In time he was clean and sober (he remained sober until his death), got back in the good graces with Chrysler, and went from “the plant drunk” to being one of Chrysler’s first Employee Assistant Program (E.A.P.) Representatives.  A career he cherished and held dear until an early retirement due to health issues came about.  But he remained active in other activities such as managing a UAW Local, which he did post retirement, but his health issues has escalated, but that still didn’t stop him.  He was still active-although limited-in his volunteer work as one of Jehovah’s Witnesses, which he fell away from in his younger years, but bounced back in his mid-40s, and carried out his assignment as a preacher until his passing.  Sadly, time will not allow me to go further on the matter, but at the Kingdom Hall where his memorial was held, there was not a dry eye in the congregation.  Even folks who knew my dad since the late 60s were crying their eyes out.  But now as his only (surviving) child, I try to take care of legacy.  I look forward to see my father again in the resurrection that was promised in the scriptures.

Till we meet again, friend.

Namaste.

Food for thought:

“If a man dies, can he live again?  I will wait all the days of my compulsory service until my relief comes.” -Job 14:14

John 5:28, 29

Revelation 21:3, 4

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