Reflections Part II

I never knew much about Rob’s life until the night before Zoe’s funeral. I stayed with him, so he would not be alone. Usually he spoke very little and smiled kindly. That night and morning he talked more than I had ever heard him talk. He told me about his life and how she had made his life so much better. He didn’t know what he would do without her. He was still quite and calm, but his tears fell as he spoke. I know some guys have a thing about crying. But even they would have been proud. No sobbing or blaming or screaming-he just shared his pain and grief with me thought those quite words and tears.

That day I realized that he was more that a Grandfather (not even a biological Grandfather some might point out). He was not the simple, uncomplicated person I thought. Rob was a person before I was born with hopes and dreams and fears. Now his life was turned upside down once again. Now that he was older he knew that life would go on. He had a strong belief that somehow God would get him though. For the next year he would struggle with despair.

I would have lunch with him every Wednesday. We didn’t talk too much, just watched TV and ate, but it was a relaxing and compatible silence. Sometimes I would turn to ask him something and would quickly turn away because I saw his tears.

One Wednesday he told me he had a date. I was very surprised! He said a mutual friend wanted him to meet a lady whose husband had died the previous year. I was glad that he was getting out of the house to have fun. The next Wednesday and for many Wednesdays after that, we would talk about his new friend Ginger. One Wednesday he told me they were getting married. I was very happy, and so was he. She was a cheerful and active woman. They were so happy together.

Some of my family was unhappy at this turn of events. They thought this marriage was somehow disrespectful of Zoe’s memory. Rob and I felt differently. She would want him to be happy. Rob and Ginger were married less than a year together before he was diagnosed with lymphoma. It is obvious that they care for each other a great deal.

When I went home today for lunch I called my Dad for the latest news. It seems that the doctors now say there are no options. Radiation or chemotherapy will not help. Steroids will help him breath easier, but it’s just a matter of time. Six months at the most.

I know it’s illogical in a way to condense someone’s life to the written word. I know Rob and his story is more complex than I can ever know or understand. He still regrets the loss of both his sons, one by death the other by estrangement. I always want to fix things for people, but there is nothing I can do except write down how I feel.

Maybe someday my story will be important to someone like Rob’s is to me. Life is beautiful and complicated. We all have pain in our lives, no matter who or what is to blame. Sometimes I see a circle, things, choices being repeated, most of the times I do not. As a human I want to find order and sense in life even to compartmentalize and organize it in order to for it to made sense. But love and faith are ultimately the only answers I see. I know even in the darkness that they are enough. They may not feel sufficient, but I know they can get me though-like they have before.