Don't get me wrong, there are good things that have happened - many good things, for sure. But I have to say, lots of heavy things have happened too. I can't say whether I'm struggling in this or not. But it sure seems to have a weight to it.
Yesterday I was with an Army buddy from many years back. I hadn't seen him in years - since back in 1994 when we were in the same unit together. Well, a few days ago I got an email message from someone in my church who knows his mother (what are the odds of that?? -- someone who knows someone who's related to someone you know... from many years ago???). It seems my former Army buddy has an inoperable type of brain cancer, and he's now in hospice care. I'd heard he was struggling with cancer - this church-person I'd mentioned earlier, a few years back asked us all to pray for a particular person... and she named him. And he has a very unique name, so I knew when I heard his name it was the same person. Well, it seemed that he was doing better... experimental drug study and all... But, then the drugs stopped working. And now he's not well. He's in hospice care now... probably won't live to see Christmas.
So I went to see him yesterday. He can't use his right side, his smile is a little lopsided, and his hair is cut very short due to all the surgeries. And he has a lot of trouble talking - getting words out is very difficult for him; he has difficulty finding the words he want to use, and then trying to coordinate the use of his tongue and lips is hard as well. But other than that he seemed to be his old self that I had remembered.
He was seated in a wheel chair in the living room of his home. It's an open and spacious home, with lots of windows and light. Beautiful hardwood flooring, warm colors - paint on the wall, and artwork and furniture all blended together to bring out a sense of the color of his life. The windows were open, and it was such a beautiful morning, almost like Spring - my favorite season.
There was one particular photo on his mantle that struck my eye. It was a color photograph of a little girl around 2 years old, in a white summer dress, leaning over to smell some flowers in a flower bed tucked in a grassy area. The colors weren't vibrant - but they were solid! Real even, almost like I was looking out a little window, watching this little girl It was such a beautiful picture, holding in itself an innocence, a hope of life... of a curiosity of the new, in a safe world. A world without fear or pain, or death.
"Who's this little girl?" I asked. "Th... that.... that's my... my... daughter." She just graduated High School this past May and is now in her first year of college. Life goes on... it moves on with or without you. Life moves on...
He'll be the fourth person this year I've been with who is in the process of dying. One of them being my father. A tough year indeed!
Closer to the time I was leaving, we talked about the next world; what it would be like, what the process would be like, things like that. He asked questions as he was able, but even he would get frustrated by how difficult it was to get words out. So I ended up doing most of the talking.
We talked about forgiveness, and letting go, and what God is... or is not. Now truth be told, how do we really know what God is or isn't, except what we think we know! And what we think we know is based more often than not on what we've been taught, but also on what we want to believe! And we want to believe in life... usually!
We talked. Well, mostly I talked. And just before I got ready to go, I asked him if I could anoint him - a church tradition centered around the healing energy of Christ. He was very okay with this, so I prayed first, asking for God's healing and blessing for him. And then I put my thumb in the container of oil, and as I drew the sign of the cross on his forehead, I said - "I anoint you with oil in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, asking that God continue healing and blessing you."
I could tell this was pretty emotionally charged for him. He held my hand, and with watery eyes, he struggled to tell me how much this had meant to him. Life goes on... and blessings in the midst of it.
It's been a heavy year for sure! Heavy with emotional stuff of all kinds - ups and downs, and sideways. Well, you get the idea.
Just moments ago (actually started this blog entry yesterday... but this part I wrote around noon on Thursday the 15th of Sept), I came back from seeing a guy who just - and I mean "just"... about a few hours ago - got released from prison after being locked up for about 14 years. He's on his way to a treatment center in northern Maryland. He'd come with his brother and his brothers wife. I met him at a cemetery in Ellicott City - on his way he'd stopped to see the grave of his son, who died when he was only a few days old. It was good to see him finally out, but he knew it would be a struggle to get used to all the things we take for granted - like using a cell phone... (or a fork and knife!). He had absolutely no idea how to text.
We talked for a bit - I asked him if there was anything he needed, and he had my number if there was anything he could think of later. But he had to go since they were expecting him up north in a little over an hour from that point.
Life goes on...
I would have loved to see Billy Crystal's one man play - "700 Sunday's". It's a remembrance of him and his father - the role his father played in his life, the time they spent together. His father worked a lot, and died young - when Billy was still growing up. They did a lot of things on Sundays - Sunday's were their special day. They would go see ball games, or play ball together. Seems this idea was pretty important to many men... women too. The way he figured it, he had about 700 hundred Sundays with his father. This play seemed to touch a nerve with many men; many left the play having laughed and cried, understanding from personal experience.
Seemed to have made them remember... to listen to what their hearts had been trying to tell them for a long time. But we're often too busy to listen... or we're not used to listening in that way.
There are some moments in life that sort of cut to the core of our beings. They peel all the BS away and get us to focus... even if it's just for a minute.
What's it all about? I want to say "connecting". It's about connecting. It's about seeing someone else for who they really are, and listening to them without thinking about what we want to say when they shut up. It's about NOT us all the time. It's about 700 Sundays with the people we love. It's about not only the family we're born into... but the family we make, once we recognize we are able to make family that way too. And by "family" in this way I don't necessarily mean the one you get from marriage - although this can be a blessing for sure! I'm thinking of family in a more expansive way though. I'm talking about the friends (ones we're either married to or not) we find ourselves missing when we're away, the ones that make us become better people, the ones that make us smile those warm heart-felt smiles of sheer joy!
Connections. Moments.
It's been a tough year. I've spent some time looking back on some moments like this... ones I've had, and ones I didn't have. Funny how you can "remember" a moment you never had. I think going around that corner into the second half of your life makes you do things like this. Moments... 700 Sundays... talks... walks... memories... connections really!
That's it... it's about connections. When someone holds your hand with their one good one, and tells you they really appreciated you coming over. When you recognize in a split second that what you're doing, and who you're with is really meaningful - Full of meaning! God moments for sure.
But boy do we miss some moments like that - totally oblivious of what's right in front of us. There's a lot we miss along the way. Makes you want to be more vigilant, more prepared to recognize them when they sneak up on you.
I say all this here, not sure if it makes any sense to "you" (out there in Blog-land)... I guess my point here is to get stuff out. Maybe it's a way of making sense of life. Some days it seems there's a lot to make sense of. Oh, well - we live and learn and drive on!
God bless - and keep your eyes open!
Pr. C-
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