You know you're in trouble when you get up to check on the state of the world and your friends and find a blog titled "Hospice" staring you in the face. My dear friend, Mike, has been battling cancer for the past three years. He was pronounced cancer free in early November. The week before Christmas he was sent from his radiation treatment (preventative) to the E.R. because his oxygen levels were so low. He had to have fluid drained from his lungs. They found signs of cancer around and in his lungs. A real setback, but he came home with the determination to fight once more.
Today his daughter-in-law blogged the truth that they had finally decided to share outside the circle of their family. The battle is over. The cancer has spread at a horrific speed. Hospice came in and has been working with the family on preparing themselves. They are spending every minute they can with Mike, because the end is not far away.
I stared at the computer with tears running down my face. My mind knew that things didn't look good. My mind knew that this was always a possibility. My mind knew ... but my heart wasn't ready. This has all come too soon. Mike is like a brother to me. He is the best that humanity has to offer - a kind, loving, and caring man who spent his life reaching out to others and lifting them up. He worked in insurance claims and was one of those men sent in to natural disaster areas to help people begin putting their lives back together. He was in California for earthquakes and fires, in the Midwest after floods, and on site for the hurricanes Andrew, Hugo, and Katrina. A better man couldn't have been sent. He's not the type of man this world can afford to lose.
I'm selfish. I don't want to lose him.
It seems so unfair. It IS unfair. Mike deserved to see his grandchildren grow up. They deserved to have him in their life for a longer time. Life isn't fair though. Life just is ... it's the hand we're dealt. What matters, in the end, is how we play those cards. Mike played his hand well.
Very well indeed.
So, what do you do next? I'm baking bread and getting meat and cheese so his wife can throw together quick meals or feed the family that comes to visit. I'll make soup. I'll keep their larder as full as I can. I'll give hugs, pray, and cry with them. When needs present themselves, I'll try to help meet them.
In short, I'll try to do what Mike has always done. He may have to lay down his torch, but there are many people who love him that will carry on what he has begun. Lighting our torch from his and moving forward is the best way to honor him. The very best way of all.
No comments:
Post a Comment