My friend Bill came to mind this morning. He passed away a couple years ago. But within his last year…I got a chance to write about him and our time together. For those of you who haven’t been with me…going back 4 years of writing. I’d like to share him with you now. Even in these times, when I have been so incredibly sick this week. Sicker than I’ve ever felt. And I go on and on about the injustices I see. As usual. ;-) And as much as I have never been all that successful in protecting myself…from my own falicies…and never really all that good at most things…the one thing I am good at is protecting. Anyone who knows me well knows…shoot…go after me. I can take it. But…If you go after someone…anyone…who is not in a position to defend themselves…I will grab you by the throat and explain to you why…it’s in your best interest to…reconsider…and apoligize. Because I may have grown up a skinny kid…but as puberty finally had its way with me after college…a very late bloomer…I got muscles…along with a big dick. Hey who that was gonna happen? As my motto has always been… “If you get a nice one in this lifetime…you might as well use it…because you never know what you’re gonna get in the next.” Yea, I know…the once sentence that will cause folks to not “like” this story. So be it. It’s me. So yea…you want me by your side. Because as much as I try to keep my hands to my side now…because it avoids jail time…I would rather be beaten to death defending those who need defending. Hey…it doesn’t make me some great guy. It’s just how I’m wired. Those Italian / Syrian genes…they scare some folks and they also make holding onto crap inside for too long…an impossibility for me. As they bless and curse me at the same time. And then comes along…Bill. A frail man. Much smaller than me. Because…again…those who know me…know…it’s not muscles or attitude I seek from others to defend me. I can physically do that just fine. Just understanding and love. And that’s the gift he gave to me. And one…I very much need to remember today. So here’s our story together. Written 3 plus years ago: I humbly ask you to read about my friend. I know it’s long. He deserves a book. For me, it is not a sad story, but one of hope. For the last 4 weeks, I have worked for a man who has cancer. A couple days ago I asked him if it would be ok if I wrote about him. When I met this man, I did not know at the time, that he would become one of the most influential people to me that I have ever met. I’ve known his companion for a number of years here in Ptown, but not him. When I went out to estimate the job, I was greeted by a man with a sheet of gauze taped to and hiding the right side of his face. I didn’t know why. When we were alone, his companion explained to me that he had been battling cancer for 10 years. The doctors had already removed most of the right side of his face, eye, mouth and teeth. They had surgically used the skin from his leg to replace what had been removed. For the last few months, as I “open” myself to “God”, I have become very aware that most all things happen in my life for a reason. I only have to be “open” to be able to receive the “why”. It did not take long. From the second I met him; there was something about him that would never allow me to feel pity for him, not even for a second. At first, I did not know why. I could tell from talking with him about the job, that he is a professional man, on the conservative side. At first, it was all business. After a couple of days, I was invited in to have lunch with him and his companion. The three of us sat down at the table; his companion to our side with me and him facing each other. As we ate and talked, it became very clear that eating is a struggle for him. Not having any feeling on the right side of his face, some of what he eats finds its way out. I could tell he was self conscious of this, holding a napkin and consistently wiping as he ate. The conversation was light and respectful, since we did not know each other. When we finished, I got up to bring my plate and theirs to the kitchen and he stopped me. He said that he would do it. “We have a system.” I left the house, went out to my truck and cried for a few minutes, pulled it together and continued working. As the days have progressed, the list of things to fix or replace on the house gets extended and I love being there. He has other improvements he would like to make and I try in my own small way to bargain with him, telling him that I will do them, if he stays healthy enough for him to watch them get done. I have watched as the nurse comes most days. I watch as he has days where he sleeps mostly. I watch as new news from doctors has taken a sudden turn. I watch as he is constantly and in increasing pain, having to choose between taking enough medication to silence it, which makes him sleep or suffering with it so he can be awake. And through it all, each day he graciously comes out to me and asks me to come in for lunch. And we sit and we talk and laugh and I go out to my truck where he can’t see me and cry. I do not cry out of pity for him. I cry out of gratitude for knowing him. There are times when he has almost caught me crying, following me outside a minute or so later to bring me water and tell me how much he appreciates my work. I have come to understand, his house is his baby. He has asked me for nothing but to take care of his baby and make it look great. Physically, he is on the frail side. In his mind and heart, he is running a marathon. As we have gotten to know each other, he has become accustomed to me sneaking a hug in here and there or allowing me to place my hand on his shoulder or back. Somehow, I feel like if I touch him enough, that “God” would please take the perfect health I have been blessed with and give it to him. I think to myself, I am just a carpenter. He has the means and smarts to make such a difference for so many. Please “God” let it rub off on him. Or let me hold him long enough for the pain to transfer to me. “God” you made me Physically strong, please let me take it for him. Our lunches have become learning sessions for me. He is so smart and knowledgeable explaining to me the history of the many religions and societies down through the ages. He only shares his knowledge as I ask questions. It is never in a boastful way. Even with all the pain, he has never complained once. I will ask how he’s doing and he usually just says OK. Knowing him, I will never be the same again. His “light” is so bright, even as his body fails. Once when he was sleeping, his companion showed his drivers license picture of him before the illness. And I don’t know anyone who takes a good DL picture. I do now. An incredibly handsome man. It is how I see him. It wasn’t long in knowing him when in my mind, the sheet of gauze disappeared as his beauty shone through. My brain just replicating the healthy side of his face to the other side. I remember not long ago, the three of us sitting and having a great lunch. There is always a bowl of potato chips on the table no matter what we are eating. How great is that! It was the day I got 90 days clean off meth and I decided to share with him that I am in Recovery. His struggle was obvious and mine didn’t compare, but I didn’t want it to be a secret. I could tell he was in a lot of pain that day. His reaction was so incredible. He said, “Oh, if we had known before we could have had a special lunch.” Little did he know, when I started the job, I was counting quarters to eat. I love this guy. He and his companion continue to ask me if there’s anything I need for the place I’m staying. When he heard it didn’t have heat where I was living, they gave me blankets and a portable heater. I am so grateful. When his companion heard I was looking for a printer, he found one for me. Bill has explained to me the concept of energy, which I will share with you. I hope I get it right. Like here on earth, as energy is used, it is never “lost”. It just is transformed from one type of matter to another. It is the same when someone “dies”. The physical shell that the soul inhabits, returns to the earth in the form of ashes or dust. The soul is a form of energy which does the same. It is never lost, it just becomes part of the “whole” again. I realized in that moment, that this man, my friend, fighting all these years when most would have given up long ago, is not afraid of death, he just really, really loves life.
Posted on: Wed, 07 Aug 2013 15:04:15 +0000
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