Monday, January 26, I received an email from a friend who lives in the UK, “Daddy B” as I will call him.
“Daddy B” lost his wife several years ago. His son “Mr B” was 10 years old at the time. Mr B is now in his late 20’s. The B’s are from the American South. They left the states for the UK after some of his “friends” literally tried to hang him in his teens (Mr B that is). I will not go any deeper into that story.
Mr B was an Olympic hopeful when, in 2010 he was diagnosed with cancer. I “met” Mr B and his partner about that time. Mr B’s partner, “Mr F” had a rough childhood. There were countless unspeakable things he endured as a child.
Mr B & Mr F have 6 children now. They have adopted some wonderful children. Mr F is a talented chef who is working to become a mid-wife. I have joked with him on occasion .. reminding him when he is tired .. not to deliver the turkey and stuff the .. well you get the idea.
Through meeting these guys, I have come to know an insanely gifted author friend of theirs … “Mrs A“. She is a hoot to listen to. Those Britt’s sound funny. Not to mention the blunt humor they all seem to have. No wonder I like them.
At any rate…
This past Monday (1/26), I received an email from Daddy B. Reminding me that Mr B’s cancer had returned with a vengeance just before Christmas. The rest of the email left me feeling numb. The doctors had confessed there was nothing more they could do. He had only a short time left to live. Mr B decided there was no need to continue treatments that were not helping anyway. He decided that he and Mr F were going on a road trip. He wanted them to go do the things they had hoped to do before they died… their “bucket list”.
They are 6 hours ahead of me in time. They have packed up the camper today and will be heading out in the morning. The children are being cared for by the grand dads and Mrs A. Mr B wants to spend his remaining days with his partner. He does not want his children, family and friends to see him and worry or fret over him as he draws closer to his end. Once the two set out on their final journey together, it is the last time his family will see him.
Part of me thinks about the children. How they must be feeling. A big part of me is thinking about Daddy B. Having just losing my wife 3 months ago and having a 10 year old son, I have a similar connection with Daddy B. I can not imagine the horrible pain of knowing he is loosing his son. Part of me is envious of Mr B and Mr F .. to be able to spend these last days together as they are planning to do. To have time to … to … (sighs) .. to have time to properly “settle” things. Mr B has endured tremendous pain over the past few years. He has chosen to “meet the reaper” on his terms, as he has expressed.
I have always had the problem of feeling as if all the worlds problems were my responsibility to fix. Not out of arrogance, but out of genuine concern to help. However, at the tender age of 44, I am finally learning that my fretting over things far beyond my reach will do no good for anyone. It does not mean I care any less for anyone. It does not mean I am not “dealing” with things in a healthy manor. It means I am finally taking the advice of 2 wise men from my high school days.
The motto which played over and over in my head like a broken record during the final hours of my wife’s battle was this “Let go and Let God“. It is our human nature to take control. It is our nature to attempt what we have no chance of achieving on our own. It is one thing to aspire to achieve great things, it is yet another to waste resources on a task that was never ours to involve ourselves with.