I found out yesterday that someone who lived down the street from me when I was growing up in Memphis passed away recently. For some reason, it really shook me up, like taking a blow to the stomach. I guess part of me still believes that people from my childhood can never grow old, get sick, and die. That they will always be around.

Plus, I think death isn’t natural. No matter how old the person is or how sick they’ve been or how they’ve suffered, you’re never prepared to say goodbye. It’s not right. I know all about how sin entered the world and death came and now people have to learn to say goodbye to those they love. But it doesn’t mean I have to like it. I can rest assured that Jesus will come and set all things right and everything we’ve ever lost that was dear to us will be restored.

But I’m thinking of my neighbor. He wasn’t famous and didn’t write best-selling books or anything like that. He was kind and he was a good neighbor. He would do just about anything for anyone when they needed help. And to me, that’s the best kind of legacy to leave. Kindness and hospitality. Fame fades and books end up in estate sales or in dusty bookstores, but kindness and neighborliness live on. We are the ones who pass it on.

I think he’s in heaven and he’s alive and strong and whole and happy.  I also think that he lives on in those who will choose to be kind and be a good neighbor and love their families. I know I want to do and be those things in my own life more now.

Thank you, Billy, for being a good husband, a good father, a good neighbor, and a good man. I will miss you, but I am better because of you. I will try to be a good husband (one day hopefully), a good father (ditto), a good neighbor, and a good man.

The legacy will live on.