And so there is. In the Bible, the book of Ecclesiastes, a famous King and familiar Bible character, King Solomon, wrote a book on philosophy. You can read a lot of different ideas into this book in the Old Testament. But the most familiar thing is that word time. He basically reminds us early in this book that there is a time for all things. Dying and living and everything in between. Last week I wrote a little story about mine and Gerald’s quest as boys to look at where the Butterfield Stage’s Station on Wolf Mountain down in Leflore County, Oklahoma was located. Marshall’s Station was the first stage stop after the stage crossed into Oklahoma—an outlaw infested area.

Fanning the flames of mine and Gerald’s curiosity, Grandpa Bullard spoke of how close this abandoned stagecoach station (Marshall Station) was to his farm. Robberies and rumors had fed stories of money and coins strung along the route. It was fairly sure that my somewhat older brother Gerald and I would eventually explore this. I did not mind having a few extra gold coins to jingle in my overalls. So, I wrote about us making plans and going last week.

Bringing this story up to date, my brother Gerald had called me a few days ago and spoke of coming down to Allen and he said he would like to make another trip down to Wolf Mountain, just to see it. He thought the trees would be beautiful this time of year. They are. Gerald and I have made a lot of excursions to various parts of Oklahoma as adults and really enjoy each other’s company. I guess we always have. We like to touch base in Stonewall, Coalgate and Centrahoma, places with memories aplenty. But most of all we like to go to where our grandparents lived, down near Wister.

But I told Gerald that we needed to wait a spell. “This Covid is getting worse down here and I’d like to stay in as much as possible.” But he was pretty ready to go anyway and said he might drive down next week. But on election night just as I was getting ready to watch the election returns, Gerald’s daughter Melinda called and reported that, just after supper, Gerald had suffered a heart attack and death was instantaneous. He passed peacefully and without pain. My beloved brother, at 89 years of age, had gone on to heaven.

I guess I can still write about Gerald and his (and our) exploits in this life but I will never be actually able to personally enjoy his company on this earth again. It seems strange when you lose a family member with whom you have so many good experiences together. We know these things are going to happen, but I guess we are all somewhat surprised when they actually do. But the passing of my unique brother Gerald has left an empty place in my heart.

I know we will be reunited in heaven soon but for now I can only appreciate King Solomon’s words about there being a time for everything. I wait and hope for that time of reunion.

Wayne Bullard DPh

cwaynebullard@gmaii.com