Dylan Stafford

Good morning sister Lisa,

Happy 4^th of July 2021, my favorite American girl.  

Good.Will.

Last week I went to Goodwill to commune with you. As I stood among the old toasters and coffee makers, Tom Petty played over the speakers: You can stand me up at the gates of Hell, but I won’t back down. That was you, DJ on heaven’s jukebox sending me a song. I looked up at you and smiled.

I go to Goodwill to remember your spiritual strength. With limited funds and failing health, you used Goodwill your last years to create a killer wardrobe, even if you were living out of your Ford Escape. Your body and your spirit were a see-saw within you, one falling down and the other standing up.

My body shares your genetics. I wonder, when my body fails, will my faith deepen like yours did? Life includes suffering: No-body is exempt. Standing in Goodwill, staring at a chipped plate, hearing you whisper through a song, my spirit gets courage.

You kept running down a dream, working on a mystery, your spirit strong even as your life expired. The homeless man found you in the back of your truck. I imagine you peaceful, off Interstate 25 in Colorado, curling into your last cocoon at the foot of the Rockies. You escaped your body with the mountains in view, looking upwards toward heaven. Your body, my ever-wild flower, ran out of gas. Your spirit my sister, still sings, still shows me how to keep swinging.

Not Throwing Away My Shot

Lisa, I wish you were here to celebrate America this year. During Covid, I discovered Hamilton, half a decade after everyone else. It’s a Broadway musical and I’ve listened to the soundtrack a hundred times now. The author reimagines Alexander Hamilton’s life story as a mirror to a modern rapper, how a person, born with nothing, uses their voice to create themself, and founds our country too. You’d love it.

Hey yo I’m just like my country,

I’m young, scrappy and hungry,

and I’m not throwing away my shot

Today is our country’s 245^th birthday. This year is my 20^th sober birthday Lisa. You gifted me sobriety. You held my hand and guided me to sobriety and taught me to work on my side of the street, to take responsibility for my life. Comparing my life to other people’s lives is not how I live anymore. My job is to compare my own “today” to only my “yesterday” and to make small, quiet improvements.

I’m finding my voice Lisa. I focus on blessings—I see the blessings—The blessings multiply. I look for truth, beauty, goodness and love.

Seek ye first the kingdom of God and His righteousness. And all these things shall be added unto you. Alleluia.

We seek. We find.

We love you Lisa. I miss you Sister.

Happy 4^th of July!

Your brother Dylan, down here