From a Different Point of View


This poem was written at the passing of J.R. Chipman. J.R. is Analia's Brother. For most of our married life he has lived in Missoula Montana. I suppose in the last 30 years we saw JR about 3 or 4 times. Then in 2007 he and his wife were divorced. He has a couple of daughters fairly close to us to he decided to move the the Salt Lake area.

After he move here we saw him nearly every week. Our family really loved him. It seemed he was always bringing something for our grandchildren. It was really the first time that Analia had a chance to get to know him as an adult.

He loved to discuss religion, politics, world events, you name it. It seemed that he always had a different slant on everything. I don't think his family really understood him and there seemed to be a certain amount of conflict after the divorce.

He always loved to hike and after he moved here he would go up into the canyons whenever he got a chance on day hikes. One Saturday we were sitting at home when we got a telephone call from the local police. It seems that JR was hiking with some people and collapsed. A doctor was among the group and he worked on JR until the paramedics got there but he never regained consciousness.

His passing was quite a shock to the whole family and we really miss him.

Gale L. Wolfenbarger
22 December 2008

From a Different Point of View

 

One evening not so long ago I was sitting in my easy chair
When the phone rang and a cheery voice said, "Is Analia there?".
"This is J.R. Chipman and I have business there to do
And if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to stay with you."

This was just the first of many welcome stays
He'd come in town and make us smile and then be on his way.
His life just then was difficult but he always wore a smile
He made us feel we were the best for listening for a while.

It seems not everyone understood his thoughtful ways
And many looked with vacant eyes at the words he'd often say.
For him the world was new and wonderful and needed careful thought
And if you didn't think the way he did, you needed to be taught.

Although his family didn't always agree with everything he'd say,
To him they were his everything, his reason for each day.
Our children thought him wonderful and looked forward to the day
When he would come and visit them with his happy easy ways.

He brought them games and toys that flew and things to make them smile.
He came to get to know their ways and play with them a while.
I never saw him with the grandchildren of his own
But I'm sure with them it was the same, together or alone.

He filled his life with service to God and his fellow man
He did his best to be as fair with all as any person can.
He loved to hike and often, he'd take off on a whim
To explore the things of nature, the "tube" was not for him.

I've often thought that the world for him was seen through different eyes
And wondered just what he saw when he pondered starry skies.
What was it made him see the world from a different point of view?
What caused his mind to see each thing as though just created new?

I'm sure if I could hear him now, he'd tell a wondrous tale
Of all the things, he's pondering in the world beyond the veil.
We all see things so differently, up close or from afar
I know my view has changed for good since the day I met J.R.

Gale L. Wolfenbarger
August 20, 2008

Copyright © 2008 Gale L. Wolfenbarger