My friend Kay was visiting last weekend. It's always amazing to be around her, but ever since she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, her velocity as a light in the world has been accelerating. For someone who knows that death may be coming soon the beauty of life is even more poignant, and being with Kay is to savor each moment we have.
Hearing about her most recent process during one of our conversations, I again encouraged Kay to start journaling and keep track of the incredible journey she's going through now. What I actually encouraged her to do is to start blogging about it so even more people can gain inspiration and solace from what she's learning - which is for all of us, not just those of us with life-threatening diseases - but right now she's more comfortable starting simply, with a private journal.
When we went on a walk later that afternoon we came across an older gentleman, who asked us about the football game as we were walking by. I'm afraid he'd picked the wrong girls for an answer to that question, but we engaged him in conversation anyway, quickly finding out that he'd played golf for 60 years until arthritis had stopped that, and just about everything else that held meaning for him in his life.
Acknowledging the incredible wisdom he must have about the game after having played for so many years, I asked him whether he has ways to share that knowledge ... Are there younger players he can mentor, or can he go to tournaments and give a commentary on the game that might be helpful to others? He said he'd offered his services as a teacher at a community golf course but had been refused. I suggested he might want to write some of these things down, and Kay piped in that I'd been encouraging her, too, to write about what she is going through right now.
He asked, so she shared a little of her story and what she's been learning lately. We started talking about the wisdom and what he's gleaned from living his 80 or so years, and the valuable stories he too has to share about his life. How he didn't think to ask these questions of his own parents and grandparents and now it's too late. That thought was powerful, and galvanized him to consider writing his own life, sharing stories that will be of vital interest to his children and grandchildren in the future. He got all excited and told us about a leather-bound blank book he's had for ages, but never started.
Before we left both he and Kay each made a vow to start writing about their lives, a little every day.
We walked on, feeling blessed, like we'd been part of a healing - a laying on of hands, so to speak - whether of him or ourselves wasn't clear, but we had certainly been standing in a circle of grace together for those few minutes.
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