Sure, I had been sick most of January and February. And he had just gotten out of a week at the hospital that I hadn’t known about. I guess I hadn’t seen him since before Christmas.
But I hardly recognized him. He was a shadow of the man he had been. I don’t know how much weight he had lost. He struggled to tell us the diagnosis – stage 4 stomach cancer.
You would think I would be used to this by now. After all, I’ve written a book about life-altering diseases. I counseled people on what to say and what not to say. I’ve held the hands of those dying.
Why was I speechless?
No matter how often you deal with this, it never gets easier. We were created to live life. Whenever it is over, it feels too soon. We grow fond of each other and don’t want that relationship interrupted, much less ended.
Now that the shock is starting to wear off, I just wish I had hugged that dear man. He lost his wife a couple of years ago and was moving past the overwhelming grief. He had become friends with my husband and was getting to know others. It’s a different experience to go from the caregiver to the one who needs care.
I could tell he did not know what to say either.
I hope I’ll get a chance to talk with him again, to say what is on my heart. And I hope you respond well when people surprise you with their news. We have such a brief time to encourage one another.
Comment: What do you think I should have said? How would you respond?
Expressing dismay and looking someone in the eye, asking what I might do now or anytime…this is a tough subject. Letting people know we truly care is the best medicine, and promises of prayer are comforting.
Thanks for writing, Ruth Ann. It was great seeing you Saturday night. It is a tough subject and being an introvert doesn’t help. But then, if I had been an extrovert I might have blurted out something off the top of my head that may not have been right either. I hope to see him when we get back to FL.
Been there. Sue’s body changed over time but watching her fade away was difficult. We were close friends, so that is different from your situation. I wrote her every week for years. She insisted those letters were sustaining because she could reread them whenever she needed a lift.
My sister Phyllis was diagnosed for the fourth time with a cancer. Only one cancer was repeated. The first cancer, I sent to her a half dozen different hats for her “new” look without her beautiful hair. The 4th cancer I called her often as she lived 4 hours away.
What could you have said to this gentleman? I am certain you have reviewed the event over and over. I am equally certain your grace showed him the caring he needed for the moment. Rest in this.
Thank you for sharing. Yes, each person/case is different, and we ask the Lord to lead us, being obedience to his nudge. I had just came up empty when I saw him. Thanks for the ideas. I won’t be home for a couple of weeks, and hope I get to see him then.
I don’t think we Americans are adept at how to deal with suffering, grief, and pain. We smack a smile on our faces and make light of what we can’t control. You were touched deeply by the pain of your friend. Not knowing what to say can sometimes be the only thing worth saying. The hug might have been good. Acknowledgment of his pain. It’s tough, my friend–even though your experience is so personal. I’m praying God gives you space to hug him and speak kind words to him.
Thank you for your kind response. Even when we think we know what to do, our emotions take over and we totally blank. Yes, I hope God gives me the grace to be able to respond to him soon.