This afternoon I visited another old friend and her husband, plus their son.
Their son is in a bad place, and is facing a lot of trouble.
When I found out officially that I had cancer and it was terminal, I asked if they would be amenable to my offering up my suffering for the growth and strengthening of his soul.
That is a Catholic tradition, and they used to be have very antagonistic attitudes towards Catholicism;, so I figured I’d better ask first.
They were deeply moved, accepted most gratefully, and invited me over today to visit them, and meet and encourage their son.
His parents and I had a great meeting. My wife showed me their unique and beautiful house, which they had renovated with their own hands and decorated in a really cool way. Then her husband came in from the garage to give me a hug. He was carrying a long, pointed rasp, and my friend said, “Careful, M.”
I stepped back and looked at it and said, “Hey, why wait six months?”
The macabre humor broke the ice.
Their son came in and said hi, then fixed himself some lunch. He didn’t get involved in the discussion at first, but eavesdropped. His dad eventually said, “B. likes to be isolated.”
I looked at him and smiled, and said, yeah, so does my son. He always kept his hair long and even uncombed, and his beard totally unkempt and down to his chest, and wore really crappy clothes
on purpose: to look like a homeless person so customers would avoid him!”
He cracked a smile!
He sat down with us after lunch and we all had a pleasant conversation. Much of it was lighthearted—some was serious, about my cancer. We spoke of how I felt about the prospect of dying, and my longing to be free from my ball and chain of sin for pure and uncorrupted union with the Lord.
It got around to my relationship with his mom and dad—what I was like when I was young, and how his parents helped to guide me out of cluelessness.
I reminded them of some of the outrageous comments they made during my learning curve, and they were shocked, “Oh, no! Did we say THAT?”
The seriousness was punctuated with many funny anecdotes.
The direction of the conversation wasn’t planned—it just kind of meandered—but eventually the husband asked me if I had any words for B.
I told him that I intended to offer up all the suffering of my cancer in prayer for the health, peace, and growth of his soul, and that he would have the strength to trust in Christ to perfect him through the very difficult trials he is certain to face.
I said, granted, the only thing I’ve got to offer up right now is sort of a dull stomach ache—but hey, it’s all yours!
He grinned.
Realistically I’m sure the guy had been cringing at the thought of enduring a conversation with his parents’s female friend—I was a little apprehensive and awkward at first, too—but I think it ended up okay or even a bit better.
For my part, I had a delightful time. I know my friends did too—and I truly believe their son thought it went “better than a sharp stick in the eye.”
Very full and rich day.