June 13th

Sunday June 13th, 1965
Mombasa, Kenya
This morning we got up as usual, and began to get ready for S.S. and church.  As I was washing the dishes Jean Law came over and told us that the Foreign Mission Board had sent a cable saying the M.G.’s dad had died Thursday.  We were shocked even thought we had never expected him to live until we got back.  We cried, naturally, for we felt so helpless.  The boys did not seem upset over it.  Alan kept saying, “I feel sorry for Daddy because his father died.”  In church Kenny said, “One good thing Daddy, he has gone to be with Jesus.”  We had lunch with the Milligans, and came back by the cemetery and made a picture of the grave of the child who M.G. preached the funeral.

Today’s post strikes a raw nerve for all the Duncan’s.  In the last few days my sister-in-law’s mother passed away.  Andrea was able to be at her side when she went on to be with the Lord.  Death is a bitter pill to swallow at the best of times.  When you are separated from your loved ones by oceans the cost seems almost insurmountable.  The only real hope we have is that we will be reunited in the future where the pain and suffering from this brief life will be forgotten in a moment.  Soon after my Mom died I made the decision to never leave my loved ones without telling them I loved them.  My Mom knew I loved her but I honestly can’t say that was the last words she heard from me.  Purpose in your heart, if you have not done so already, that you will leave nothing unsaid to your loved ones!

Go with God, and to all my family, I LOVE YOU!

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