A close friend of mine, Terry Bush, passed away at the end of 2024; his wife decided to hold the memorial for him in late June, which we just recently went to. It was a wonderful and honoring event of his memory. My daughter, her husband, my son and his wife attended the service – a reflection of how much he was loved and respected by the Roe and Mansfield families. Many of his other friends attended, too. Each had their own stories of how they met and walked with him during his lifetime.
Terry and I had known one another since 1979 when we were both starting out as young husbands and businessmen. He was an engineer and I was involved in real estate and mortgages at the time, so it was only natural for Terry and his wife, Francie, to ask me to help them find and finance their first house. It was a pleasant, small “starter home”. It wasn’t a mansion but it was THEIR house, their home. His life proved to be one of security, sound finances and proper providing. He was a kind man and he loved the Lord. May that be said of each of us, upon our passing away.
When Terry’s tender memorial service was completed, the many attendees made their treks back to their respective cities and states. In our case, my bride, Susan, joined our son, Colin and daughter-in-law, Hannah, along with their three kiddos in a 2-day road trip from S. Cal to Idaho, where they have been vacationing with us into July. In our initial planning, Susan and I intended to fly down together and return together by plane. The need soon arose for her to join our son’s family in their car to help be available, when needed, for the small children, one of whom is a newborn babe. My flight reservations for later that evening were kept.
They started EARLY for their long road trip and I had HOURS to burn in S. California prior to my flight. What to do? I suppose Terry’s memorial service made me think about the many places he had lived and where we both started adult living. Our families each started out as renters in small places and, then in short order, bought our first homes. All the CA houses we eventually bought were just off of the 10 Freeway or the 210, 91 or the 15… proving us to be real examples of SNL’s The Californians.
Making a decision
It was early and I looked at my watch, at my rental car and then at the already-congested San Bernardino “10” freeway and thought: “I wonder if I can stop by all the homes that Susan and I lived in during our early years of marriage. But why would I do it?”
I wasn’t quite sure. Adventures sometime unveil themselves to us as we drive along. So, I pulled away from the curb and began my own road trip down “memory lane”-all the while knowing my destination was Ontario Airport, that evening. I smiled and wondered what I might find along the way. It would not be a chronological trip, but I present it as such here for the sake of illustrating what I learned.
Where we began
I traveled to our first apartment (in West Covina) where Susan and I kicked-off our life together as newlyweds. In fact, it was a VERY difficult first year of marriage. As I walked into the complex, I approached #132 and knocked on the door. I remembered the fights, the times of tension and the many difficult times of trying to meld two distinctively different lives together in the apartment space before me. The current resident opened the door and we talked. He listened to what I was doing and LOVED the idea of my road trip.
When this 30-ish, single man heard that we had occupied his current space 48 years ago, his jaw dropped! He couldn’t believe it. Apparently, the fact that people had lived in his home WAAAY before he was even born, was quite remarkable to him. The fact that we’d been married for 48 years was even a greater mind-blower. He invited me in and we had a vibrant conversation about memoires and the journey of life. When I left, he was encouraged about his own life, the one he is currently living and the life he hopes to have. I look forward to staying in contact with him.
First lesson learned: Where we currently live was, most likely, once somebody’s precious place – where they got up each moment to start their hope-filled days and years.
The purpose of the road trip continued to unfold
Our next home was in Ontario, CA adjacent to the 60 Freeway. It was a little dump but it was our little dump – a house behind a house. It’s where we climbed out of apartment living.
From the folks who lived in front of us, we learned that every successful marriage has to have a spiritual component to it. We began attending a Bible study on Friday nights in that front house. We both accepted Christ while living there. Our lives began to flourish and truths began to unveil themselves to us.
On this trip down “Memory Lane”, I visited the still-standing OLD house. I realized that beautiful gifts often come in gnarly wrapping. Along with my new-found faith in Jesus, the owner of the house-in-front, Tom Harris, (about whom I have written in a previous Newsletter) also gave me a gift. He handed me a 1938 D-18 Martin acoustical guitar that his father had played in L.A. at church services for people on skid-row during the depression. This guitar and the songs he played with it gave them hope. It also suddenly became a monument of hope to me for my decision to follow Jesus. When I pass away, that guitar will be given to my son.
Second lesson learned: Beautiful gifts often come in uninspiring and simple ways. Looking back on our lives and realizing this, helps us see how meaningful those moments really were.
More homes, as children arrived.
The little home gave way to a newly built, larger home in the bustling community of Rialto, CA. Just two of us at first…until the first baby arrived!
We anticipated living there for a long time, but only lived their half a dozen years.
We moved and we moved again. Rialto gave way to Redlands which gave way to San Bernardino… and finally we simply moved out of state 34 years ago.
The third lesson learned: We all think we’re going to locate somewhere for a long time, but that may NOT be the case. Your movement may be with jobs, or employees, or hobbies, or political perspectives, or…
Like me, moving into new houses.
Or Terry, entering into Heaven.
Now, think about it in your own life. Where have you lived, why did you move, where did you go? What external factors forced a change here or there? What lessons have you learned.
My recent road trip allowed me to see and touch every home that Susan and I had lived in for the first 14 years of our marriage. Yet, those places had all changed. My memory of them had stayed the same but they were ALL different.
Just as we are today.
Consider these few truths:
Where we currently live was most likely once someone else’s precious home. They lived and loved their families there. Their leaving became beautiful gifts to us, yet still temporary. These gifts are to be passed along to others. We all think we’re going to be with something a long time, but many times we just aren’t.
Terry Bush knows these truths to be real.
If you ever have the opportunity to revisit your old homes, do it. It was a marvelous series of moments by myself with an audience of hundreds in my memory of every barbeque, swim party, and get together we ever had for the first part of our married lives.
All the best,
Den
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- The next time you are near one of your old homes, take the time to go and see it. Stand outside and remember the times of your life when that house was your home. Rejoice that you had it, and (possibly) that it’s no longer yours!
- If you are unable to physically visit the properties, just take a look at what they look like today on Google Maps. Spend time and remember the moments of your life when it afforded you shelter and the life you had there.
- Give thanks for every little “dump” you ever lived in, because having lived there brought you to where you are today. Giving thanks puts all things in perspective.