“Listen to your life. See it for the fathomless mystery it is. In the boredom and the pain of it no less than in the excitement and gladness, touch, taste, smell your way to the heavenly and hidden heart of it because, in the last analysis, all moments are key moments, and life itself is grace.” Frederick Buechner
His leg began hurting while we were still becoming friends. He put off going to the doctor because he wanted to finish building our house for us. The verdict was Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma and the treatment was successful. The cancer went into remission. His life’s work was the building trade begun at twelve. His parents died and his brothers and sisters, all thirteen of them, were farmed out to relatives. For awhile he lived from pillar to post, not really settled anywhere. An uncle took him in and taught him how to plaster walls. His life as a child and his schooling were ended. As he says, with tears leaking from the corner of his eyes, “I raised myself.” Life as a young adult was rocky and difficult... military service, a failed marriage, distant children, alcoholism, anger. He met his match in his second wife who gave as good as she got. By the time we met them, some of the fire and brimstone had been dampened down and as neighbors, we cautiously began to get to know each other.
They were suspicious of “doctors”, didn’t know the difference between Michael’s Ph.D. and Tim’s M.D., both were doctors and equally guilty. As the wives of “doctors”, Jeannie and I were cut some slack but not much. Visits, Christmas presents, shared grandchildren, side by side work building the deck for Alison and David’s wedding, building our house together, listening to the underneath of the outside talking, slowly we began to see him for the child of God he is and loved him as he loved us. Using his carpenter’s pencil, whittled down to a nub, he drew off plans for the horse stable and then helped us build it. By the time Michael was building his chicken house, the pain had returned. He drew the plan up but to his grief, was not able to build it. The cancer was back and this time did not respond to treatment.
Last night his wife called us to come. He had fallen several times and is getting weaker. She wanted Michael to get him to go to the hospital. Mama and I sat with her while Michael sat with him, speaking of life and death, friendship and love, Hospice and help, hospitals and home. He wants to stay home so the farm family is gearing up to help that happen. Tim and Jeannie are dealing with Hospice and other medical issues. She is too weak from dialysis to drive so Diane is doing grocery shopping for them. Mama, Leisa and I are the food and sitter team(while she is in dialysis, he cannot be left alone) with Jeannie and Diane’s help. Michael, Tim and Gary have gathered round their friend and he will have them by his side for this last project.
Like the divining of God’s will by letting the Bible fall open and putting a finger blindly on a verse, Buechner’s writing popped up as the quote for my devotional reading this morning. As I begin letting go of Vince as friend in this life, Buechner reminds me that all of life is grace and all moments are key moments. Building the deck with Vince was as important as standing by him while he dies. Standing around talking about the horses and a future stable were as important as holding his hand while he weeps. Listening to him grump and fuss, laughing at the antics of my grandsons, asking about his grandson Zack who worked with us on the farm, watching him draw and figure out how to build a hall rack bench for the mudroom, sharing meals and special occasions, all were moments of grace and I give thanks for this irascible troublesome endearing man who has been our friend. Now he returns to the Love that has never let him go, the One who waits for his return, this child who has been trying to find his way home since he was twelve will soon be gathered into the arms of the Father, home at last. Thanks be to God for sending him our way, for all the life we have shared and for all that is yet to come. We have both been graced in the hidden heavenly here at Sabbath Rest Farm and the Mystery draws near. So be it. Amen.
Monday, August 17, 2009
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