A Sunrise and a Sunset at a Time

 

"Goodbyes hurt the most when the story was not finished."

                                                                                           ----- Anonymous       

I recently bid goodbye to a friend.  About two weeks ago a stroke, followed by another while at the hospital took its toll that put him on life support.  A week later, his family brought him home.  When I got there, his wife, her eyes swollen, only barely able to speak above a whisper as she greeted me, was at his bedside holding his right hand.  His sister was by his left side, stroking his face and head with a small damp towel.  His youngest son, just out of college was there as well. His labored breathing filled the quiet room. His eyes were closed and I don't think he could hear anything anymore.

I've known Tim for twenty five years. We worked at two separate companies that did business with each other. We remained friends because we shared a common bond beyond the commercial interests of our companies. I was already deep into woodworking as a hobby.  He wanted to get into it.  That's how it began. 

The message of the quote above has so many facets in it. Goodbyes always hurt.  When parents say goodbye and mourn the loss of a child, the  anguish is incomprehensibly painful for anyone to endure. It defies the orderly sequence of life. 

Tim's dad is 104 years old.  Tim - just a few months younger than I - was yet to celebrate his 75th birthday.  Tim did not talk openly about it but he had every reason to believe that he had much to look forward to before his story was finished. His mom passed away in her late-nineties just a few years ago. Everyone who knew Tim understood why he went about planning a lot of things.  Genetics was on his side. His dad is not only a navy veteran of WWII in the Pacific, he is a prostate cancer survivor.  

About four years ago Tim was diagnosed with lung cancer.  He never smoked.  There are no early symptoms for lung cancer until it is already in stage 1 or worse. Tim was experiencing shortness of breath, chronic fatigue and unexplained weight loss. A mass that tested malignant was found in one of his lungs. The good news is that Houston has some of the best cancer care facilities in the world.  Immunotherapy, a new medical breakthrough, hailed as the latest alternative to chemotherapy, was tried on Tim. Lo and behold the mass that was already the size of a tennis ball went away after a regimen of immunotherapy. His cancer went on remission but he had to undergo regular testing and check up that  routinely became  part of his life.

Tim had plans.  I thought he had more than what a typical  25 year old has, or anyone going through mid-life.  But he was not in a hurry nor felt as if he was pressed for time, or that time could run out on him.  He built a new house next to where his dad lives.  Next to it was a huge barn-size structure that he made into a giant workshop although it was more than just for wood projects.  He had equipped one area to service automotive and farm equipment in addition to what later was going to be a full fledge woodworking shop.  There is a pneumatic lift similar to a service bay at a mechanic's garage.  The air filter and a ductwork was well laid out. I have only seen the photos and I had plans to visit later this summer or fall. Tim had repeatedly invited me and my wife to visit.

Mississippi is a little over six hours by car from Houston. His dad owns a large acreage of farm land and forested area of hardwood trees.  Tim himself had over many years accumulated large acreage of his own - also deeply forested and farm land next to his dad's property. He would go back and forth countless of times from  Mississippi to his Houston condo. His wife, who still works, makes that home for the two of them. So, Tim who always exuded with positive attitude and a determination to go on with life split his time between Mississippi and Houston.  

For a cancer survivor Tim carried on with a heavy schedule.  He did not completely leave the oil industry because he still did consulting work while at the same time attended to the farm and forest management of his land, and looking after his dad's welfare. Fortunately, his dad, a living centenarian, manages to do relatively well, considering that most folks way younger than him are already in nursing homes or in assisted living conditions. Tim, aside from making regular trips back and forth for the tests and check ups he needed to have, still had time to visit with friends here and there, often accompanied by his dog.  He often would bring pieces of hardwood he would load on his truck for me. I have enough to work on for a very long time.

Tim had much to hope for.  His attitude was very much that of someone looking forward to all the sunrises he believed were still in front of many waking hours he expected to have.  We cannot blame him.  His dad is a cancer survivor.  

Just weeks ago, the cancer came back. It spread quickly.  The stroke was from a brain hemorrhage. The cancer spread so rapidly Tim's immune system was overwhelmed.  

Since that day I said goodbye to him, it was two more sunsets and two sunrises later before I received a text from his wife, "He just left us".

Every earth-bound inhabitant - plants and animals alike - is bound by time sandwiched between sunrise and sunset every twenty four hours. From dawn to dusk, the brightening of light and the intensity of it by mid-day and the waning to a multicolored hue in another few hours, are  what goes in between the bookends of everyday.  Each day a page, pages make a book, and for all of us fortunate indeed to complete a book, the sunrises and sunsets when tallied and bound together are what life is all about.

The most important thing to remember is that each of us gets the same allotment of time between each sunrise and each sunset.  However thin or thick a book each of us ultimately puts together, what counts is how well we spend the time between each sunrise and each sunset.  Every page is one sunrise and one sunset at a time. I believe Tim had completed his book. 

P.S. In 2016 I wrote about "Twilight" which some of you, who may not have read or just want to read it again, hopefully will find solace:

https://abreloth.blogspot.com/2016/09/twilight.html