Sad

I'm a little bit sad today.

M., the man on whose behalf I told cancer to "eff off" on the FFO thread ten days ago, died this morning.

I knew it was coming eventually, but it's still sad when it happened.

(And yet: I'm kind of relieved it's over for him. Towards the end, I understand, he was in a lot of pain and was suffering from confusion. He is no longer suffering now. And I believe his soul has moved on to a better place.)

He survived a bit over a year from his diagnosis with lung cancer. At one point we thought he had beaten it; he started coming back to church when he felt up to it. It was good to see him.

But then he suffered some kind of a setback a couple weeks ago, and he never recovered.

I taught Sunday school today. In the middle of the lesson, I realized that this was the week of the month M. used to teach - but back a year ago when his diagnosis was finalized and he was going to start treatment, he asked me to take his week for him, because he wouldn't have the strength to teach while undergoing treatment.

I said OK, and I remember telling him that if some point in the future he was better enough to take his week back, I'd gladly relinquish it.

He sort of shook his head sadly (I remember now) and said "I don't think I'll be taking it back."

A couple of other things I remember:

He always used to call me "Kiddo." From some people that would annoy me but from him, it just made me smile. (At 38, I'm hardly still a kiddo, but whatever).

He always had a joke. Most of them were the silly kind of riddle (Like: "Why did the golfer wear two pairs of socks? In case he got a hole in one!") that he probably saved up during his years as a primary-school teacher. All of his jokes were squeaky clean, and they usually involved some kind of bad pun. I loved them and I will miss his jokes.

He always had a kind word for people. That is more important than some people might think.

He was a coin collector and sometimes when he "weeded" his collection, he'd pass coins on to people he thought would appreciate them. I have a buffalo nickel he gave me. I don't think it's worth a whole lot, but that doesn't matter. What matters to me is that he gave it to me. It's sitting on my bookshelf now with a few other "treasures" I've collected over the years.

M., you will be missed. You were a good man and a kind man. Rest in peace.