Christmas Love
Last December I ran into a guy on a job.
I’ve known the guy for about 20 years. I saw him once a week. We always had warm words for one another as I checked his job for safety problems and he always, promptly, fixed whatever it was I pointed out.
A real professional relationship.
Of course, we talked as well. We’d tell each other about our kids, complain a little about our wives and commiserate about our own health and long days on our feet. He was always sympathetic to my limping around.
Last December he broke some news.
“I have brain cancer. I’m going to be out of commission for a little while.”
The thing about this guy is that he has hands that are the size of a catcher’s mitt, and when he shook your hand, it stayed shook for about an hour.
We shook hands that day.
“I’m sorry you’re going through it,” I said.’
“I’m good. My daughter is getting married in September and I have a cruise booked for next October.”
His children mean the world to him. He loves to hit the waters with his wife.
“I’m walking her down the aisle.”
I saw him on and off in early 2017.
Then I heard that he was in the hospital for a long stretch and couldn’t have visitors.
I sent a card.
How very inadequate that felt!
In July, I went to what had been his former job.
He was there.
He’d lost about 60 pounds, and all his hair.
I tried not to show shock. Even his eyebrows were gone.
But we started our greeting with a handshake.
And man, the grip was every bit as strong.
I laughed, and then pulled him in for a hug.
“My daughter was in a panic,” he said. “She wanted to move the wedding up. I told her ‘no f***ing way! September!”
“And you still have a cruise in October,” I said.
“Might not make that one,” he said.
I saw his photo in the paper last Sunday.
In the obits.
There would be no service, as per his wishes.
It made me sick.
Until I saw a mutual friend.
“I went to his daughter’s wedding,” the friend said. “He strutted his daughter down the aisle, and when he shook the groom’s hand, the groom grimaced.”
I laughed.
“He went on the cruise too. Had to hire a nurse to go along, but spent two weeks at sea with his wife. He’d been in the Navy. Loved the water. That’s where they’ll spread his ashes.”
I left the trailer, shaking my head.
Thought of Christmas.
And this blog.
Life is a roller coaster.
It’s filled with dips and violent turns.
Hang on tight.
Keep your feet and legs inside the cart.
And enjoy the ride.
Just enjoy the ride.
May God be with you.
May love be in your heart.
Merry Christmas to All!
And R.I.P. Mike.
You did it.
I’ve known the guy for about 20 years. I saw him once a week. We always had warm words for one another as I checked his job for safety problems and he always, promptly, fixed whatever it was I pointed out.
A real professional relationship.
Of course, we talked as well. We’d tell each other about our kids, complain a little about our wives and commiserate about our own health and long days on our feet. He was always sympathetic to my limping around.
Last December he broke some news.
“I have brain cancer. I’m going to be out of commission for a little while.”
The thing about this guy is that he has hands that are the size of a catcher’s mitt, and when he shook your hand, it stayed shook for about an hour.
We shook hands that day.
“I’m sorry you’re going through it,” I said.’
“I’m good. My daughter is getting married in September and I have a cruise booked for next October.”
His children mean the world to him. He loves to hit the waters with his wife.
“I’m walking her down the aisle.”
I saw him on and off in early 2017.
Then I heard that he was in the hospital for a long stretch and couldn’t have visitors.
I sent a card.
How very inadequate that felt!
In July, I went to what had been his former job.
He was there.
He’d lost about 60 pounds, and all his hair.
I tried not to show shock. Even his eyebrows were gone.
But we started our greeting with a handshake.
And man, the grip was every bit as strong.
I laughed, and then pulled him in for a hug.
“My daughter was in a panic,” he said. “She wanted to move the wedding up. I told her ‘no f***ing way! September!”
“And you still have a cruise in October,” I said.
“Might not make that one,” he said.
I saw his photo in the paper last Sunday.
In the obits.
There would be no service, as per his wishes.
It made me sick.
Until I saw a mutual friend.
“I went to his daughter’s wedding,” the friend said. “He strutted his daughter down the aisle, and when he shook the groom’s hand, the groom grimaced.”
I laughed.
“He went on the cruise too. Had to hire a nurse to go along, but spent two weeks at sea with his wife. He’d been in the Navy. Loved the water. That’s where they’ll spread his ashes.”
I left the trailer, shaking my head.
Thought of Christmas.
And this blog.
Life is a roller coaster.
It’s filled with dips and violent turns.
Hang on tight.
Keep your feet and legs inside the cart.
And enjoy the ride.
Just enjoy the ride.
May God be with you.
May love be in your heart.
Merry Christmas to All!
And R.I.P. Mike.
You did it.
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