My dirty little secret is out, or at least I’ve come to terms with it.
I was always an outcast. Mr-Life-of-the-Party, Mr-Smiles-and-Jokes was a mask I wore for all those years; I was empty inside. I did not know who I was or what I was supposed to do.
All through high school I was a straight “A” student except for German; I hated the teacher and gladly took “D”’s. Nevertheless, I graduated a year early so I could attend college, but the real reason was that I did not fit in. In my high school, you either fixed cars and played football, or you were denied an identity. I hate cars, but still love (to watch) football. Go figure.
I studied music and again earned straight “A”’s, but I’m about as natural at music as I am comfortable in water. (I’m hydrophobic.)
I was rudderless after college and ended up in Navy Band, not to see the world, but as a desperate act to have a steady paycheck and a place to stay. I didn’t feel comfortable there, either, and all that did was delay the inevitable for five years.
I left the Navy with a wife and a child, and with the same hole inside me that I could not fill. I tried to make the marriage work, but I still did not feel as if I had a place or purpose in life.
Then I met her, and in one person I found my place, and now through her struggle with cancer, I have found my purpose.
Carole is on break from chemo and starting to bounce back with the help of her Mom’s kitchen magic (yes, the kitchen is another place I do not belong), but the last six or seven weeks have been the closest I’ve seen my wife to death. She declined so far and so fast that I felt as if we were being stalked by darkness itself.
On Tuesday, we get the results of my wife’s most-recent scans and learn if the chemo was effective. I would be amazed if it was because over all these weeks of suffering she has only received two full treatments. I know she cannot tolerate more chemo, at least not the cocktail she was given, but I also don’t know what other options we have. Tuesday’s appointment has taken on a milestone importance.
Faith only takes you so far. Personal strength has long been used up. Optimism is overrated. My belief that this woman is the one is unshaken.
Just like my purpose.
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So ignore the first two and embrace the last.
Bob, your writing lately is quite moving. (Check your email.)
It’s amazing to see the veneer burning off Bob and seeing the amazing person who lies beneath that veneer. Dross? What dross? What’s left is just Bob.
Your devotion to Carole is — there’s no word that doesn’t feel trite, and I’m left with this– beautiful.
Very moving – extremely moving
I can tell you that you are not alone in your feelings of emptiness. It is likely you cannot see what is clear to us, that your grace and blessing to Carole is the very face of Jesus. Goes without saying my prayers are with you two. The struggle is palpable.