My parents moved across country when they were a young married couple and raised us girls without the blessing of having family close by. The friends they made through our church community were the people with whom we celebrated holidays, went camping, and shared memories. The families in this group of friends became part of the foundation that supported us as we grew up. Last week, we learned the sad news of the passing of two of the men from this foundational friend group. It’s hard to grow older and lose friends and loved ones. No one really prepares you for the harsh reality of the stage of life my folks are in. Someday, I’ll probably write about that. We have plenty of books like, “What to Expect When You’re Expecting,” but few answer the question, “What to Expect When You’re Aging.” That’s a topic for another day. Today, I want to share about one of these men, Bob.
I just found out that Bob actually passed away back in December. Ugh. The thought that he had been suffering with a serious illness, and I had not reached out to offer my support because I was unaware, is crushing me. One of the main reasons I feel so badly about this, is that this man, whom I hadn’t seen in person in many, many years, has been one of my biggest supporters since my Dad’s stroke. Despite all the years that had passed since our families were last together, Bob reached out and continued to do so for years. It was as if he understood that I was missing my Dad’s voice, so he made the effort to be there for me to cheer me on since Dad couldn’t. He didn’t try to be him or take his place, but he offered that fatherly type of support that only a Dad can give, and that every kid needs to feel (even those kids who are getting up there in age with grandkids of our own!) After hearing of his death, I re-read the countless emails we exchanged. I now count them as treasured gifts. These were emails where he regularly encouraged me to write a book, or shared his thoughts about God and love, or spoke of how we deal with suffering. I take solace in knowing (because he told me so many times) that the Holy Spirit somehow used my posts to draw him closer to God. In simply sharing about his own aging process, he said he felt renewed comfort in what was in store for him someday. He was confident in all the glory that awaited when it was his time to go. He never shared that was likely right around the corner; I had no idea. But, I have no doubt where he is now. Praise God for that sweet assurance.
At the same time, as I read all those emails to and from Bob, I have to take pause for some serious self-reflection. How had I let a year go by since I wrote him last? Why didn’t I think to check-in and make sure he was doing ok? What on earth was I so busy doing that I couldn’t take a few minutes to drop a line to someone who had been so incredibly supportive of me in my darkest days? It’s a vaguely familiar feeling of the words I shared at my Grandma’s funeral when she passed away. Gram wasn’t always easy. Sometimes it was hard to be patient. When she passed, I spoke at her funeral about how her death taught me what was important. It taught me to prioritize. Well, apparently, this student still has a lot to learn. Because, once again, I’m feeling like I fell short of being the kind of person I know God calls me to be – of the kind of person I want to be.
I don’t want to use this blog to be preachy to anyone else, but I do want to use it to explore what is important to me. I want to use it to challenge me to be intentional with my thoughts, words, and actions. Am I telling the people important to me that they are, indeed, important? If I see something beautiful or a gift in someone, do I freely share that compliment with them? Am I being fully present to others? Am I consistently practicing gratitude? Am I using my time wisely? Am I prioritizing my health, my relationships, my growth, my God? At the end of my life, will the deep sigh I let out be one of pleasure and satisfaction with how I showed up to others, or one of regret for all the missed opportunities to be who I was made to be?
Bob’s passing has brought all these and many more questions to light for me. It’s been a couple very deep days of reflection and tears and heartwarming, thought-provoking conversation with my incredible sister, Traci. (How blessed am I to have someone so dear to process all these emotions with!) I definitely don’t have all the answers, but I think I’m asking the right questions. And, for that, I am very thankful.
I’ll leave you with this – It’s the closing of the last email Bob ever wrote to me. I had shared with him that I was feeling sad about my Dad’s inability to converse and the void that absence caused in my heart. But at the same time, I felt silly complaining because so many people had it worse than we did. He wrote to me, “You feeling pain now at the loss of relationship is very understandable, regardless of the problems of others. We are, after all, feeling beings. Just know that in the real world, many are able to see you, and share your feelings with you, especially in your posts. You never know whom you may touch.” And, as always, he signed off with his well known sentiment, “Every day is an adventure.”
Bob, I’m eternally grateful that you chose to see me. That you gave me permission to feel all the feels. That you so often shared with me that my words touched you. And that you always reminded me that every day – every single day – is an adventure. I was blessed by your love and support and hope to become a better person by the lessons your passing has taught me. Until I see you again…
Faith, Family & Life 