Life is full of opportunities, and missed opportunities. Often it’s only the finality of death that forces us to recognize those missed opportunities in our own relationships. How often do we say to ourselves, “If only I’d known…” “If I’d known it would be the last time I would ever see you, I would have taken the time to tell you how much you mean to me and what a wonderful friend you’ve been.” “If only I’d known it was to be our last phone conversation. I would have blocked everything else out to listen intently to everything you had to say. I would have made a point to savor the moment, enjoy the warmth in your voice, and to memorize our last heartfelt words to each other.
While some of us will get caught at the end of life with too many regrets, I believe two men we lost over the last week probably had fewer regrets than most. "KPLC Senior Reporter” David Soileau and Rodney Guilbeaux, a "KPLC Weather Watcher,” are gone, but will be remembered always..
Though many knew them in connection with KPLC, each man was so much more than merely a “KPLC Senior Reporter” or “KPLC Weather Watcher.” To refer to them that way risks trivializing their lives, their contributions and what they meant to those who knew them.
When I first met David nearly 30 years ago, he was a Lake Charles Police Officer. Over the past decade or so he’s been a polygraph examiner for the Calcasieu Sheriff’s Department. He did so much to promote the Cajun music and culture as the host of a popular radio show each Saturday morning. As well, David was a great friend and a devoted husband, son and father. I remember when he threw a surprise birthday party for his wife Brenda. I remember the two “Cajun two stepping” around the dance floor. They seemed so happy. David enjoyed making others happy, doing things for others and living life to the fullest.
David had a lot of health problems that caused physical discomfort and pain, but he never let on. I worried about him, because I knew he had only one lung, after surviving lung cancer. I knew a bad cold could do him in. Yet, whenever I helped him put together his senior report, when we parted ways the conversation would end the same. He’d say, “Now, you need something, you call me.” I’m one of so many who will miss David, a man with a kind heart and a good nature. At 61, his life was truly cut short.
Rodney Guilbeaux is another man whose contributions to the community far surpass those of your typical “mere mortal man.” Rodney died at the age of 80, and had been in extremely poor health over these last few years. But for most of the time I knew him he was an energetic champion in the fight to save “Coastal Louisiana.” His efforts through the “Coalition to Restore Coastal Louisiana” are no doubt largely the reason we have breakwaters that help to protect places like Constance Beach and Holly Beach. And I know the fight was not easy. He was masterful at learning how to navigate through the red tape and relentless when it came to battling for dollars and projects needed for the coastal areas.
And in addition to all his efforts to save our coast and wetlands, he also did more than anyone I know to make people aware of the importance of evacuating when told to in a hurricane. Rita and Katrina may have taught people a lot, but so many times over the years, Rodney took time to tell his family’s story of misery, destruction and heart breaking loss of human life. I will always have a vivid recollection of Rodney tearfully describing how Audrey’s storm surge carried his mother’s lifeless body so many miles from home. It was heart wrenching to hear him tell of the horrific days of recovering bodies and trying to identify them, for their families. I know, after hearing Rodney tell his story, I’ll never willingly ride out a hurricane.
And as Rodney begins his new life in heaven, (yes Rodney, I believe you’re there even though you expressed concern to me you might be delayed in purgatory ) Rodney now has the companionship of one of his grandsons. The day after Rodney’s funeral Saturday his grandson Adam Ross Puckett was killed in a boating accident. Adam’s parents are broken hearted yet, his mother Gisele has already selflessly spoken of their desire to make people aware of life jackets that simply don’t work. “If we can just save one life, “ says Giselle. I still need to do more research, but Gisele says Adam’s body sank to the bottom of the Amite River, even though he was wearing a lifejacket.
Life is so short for so many. We can never assume we’ll have the ones we love for as long as it seems reasonable. My deepest sympathy to Alton and Gisele Puckett and all those who endure the excruciating loss of a child dear to them. Such loss is a mystery that shakes us to the core. I’ve heard it said that lovingly embracing suffering helps us to know Jesus better and imbues us with qualities that may lead to our redemption. But who among us can accept or understand.
As for my friends Rodney and David, I suspect you heard those words so many long to hear upon arrival in paradise. “Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of your Lord.” And the faithful who miss you take comfort in the belief that, “We’ll see you again.”
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