A Cup of Conversation – October 2014

The tapestry of a man’s life is woven with many living threads but only a rare few actually color the soul. True friendship is purified by heat and pressure. The rest is recycled in the wisdom of choosing carefully those with whom we share our time. We’ve heard that we don’t choose our family but we choose our friends. Choice forges the unique bonds of trust and treasure invested in those adding so much to our lives.

A couple years ago, I lost one of those rare friends to cancer. He was about my age. I don’t think anyone ever really considers dying before his time. We may think about it long enough to buy life insurance or in times of extreme stress, illness or depression but in the normal course of things it’s just not part of the daily human check list. Up until about middle age, we pretty much think we’ll live forever. We don’t. Maybe we should reflect more on the end game and less on the middle? While driving a car we’re supposed to focus on the horizon and not the lines in the road because by the time the now is here it’s too late to do anything about it. Only when we keep eyes on the horizon do we have any say whatsoever in the here and now.

My friend and I were very close for a long time. We had a falling out which lasted a few years until one day he called asking to see me. He was going through a rough patch and reached out for someone he could trust to help him through it. I guess real friendship has a half-life of forever. I remember why we fell out of grace and it was part and parcel to the reason he called. Everything is connected and nothing spoken or done really goes away but can often be reconciled by just a little authentic humility. This is a wonderful and mysterious design.

Seeing my friend again after so long a time was a joy.   I really missed him and how he complimented my life. We were as much alike as different and shared a common faith which initially brought us together. His life now was very complicated. Choices, some acute, some chronic, made managing parts of his life extremely difficult. He was an achiever, successful, a great provider, generous and the hardest working man I ever knew but now was plainly broken. Life had become messy and he needed an old friend’s perspective to start putting things back together again. If fortunate, a man finds himself in this place only once in his life because no one living half a century is spared. The degrees of trouble and trial may be different but pain and suffering, even self-inflicted, are relative to everyone. It doesn’t take much to get lost.

I would’ve done anything for my friend. He was always there for me and my family over the years, I owed him more than I could ever repay. The opportunity to restore relationship and help him at the same time was treasure in heaven. Circumstances forced my friend to face the reality of few wrong choices amidst an ocean of right choices. In the first two years from when he called, I saw him evolve more in the ways that count than in all the time I knew him. It was the beginning of third year when the doctor said the cancer word.

The last year of my friend’s life was nothing short of remarkable. He’d come full circle doing the work to make right what was possible and accept full responsibility for what couldn’t be repaired. Now, the end of his life was in clear focus and he was at peace for the first time in a very long while. The final year was short but brutal. Cancer is a cruel occupier claiming every ounce of strength and also one’s soul if allowed. My friend didn’t allow it and tolerated unconscionable pain because too much medication dulled his spirit and he resisted with the last of his will. He was in constant communion with his loving and forgiving God and fought for every last second of clear thought.

I had the honor to see him just a couple of days before the end. He was engaged in epic battle between body and spirit. Spirit prevailed when his outstretched hand reached for mine. Even on death’s bed his vice-like grip could still crush a man’s hand. I knelt beside him and prayed a last prayer for my friend to see heaven sooner than later then asked him if there was anything left to do. His hollow eyes were clear and bright as he gently smiled, shaking his head in quiet contentment and I knew he was almost home. At the end of my days when those left behind are given the chance to reflect upon the tapestry of my life, my friend will be there, present and visible in the magnificent sunset of finishing well.