I had not heard from my old friend G for a while. He and I last talked a few months back when he mentioned he was going to take a trip to China. He is a dentist, so I figured it was one of those Sino-American dental conferences again. Like mine, his children are working adults now. Unlike me, but to my envy, he and his wife L even had two wonderful grandchildren. But it has been almost six months since that conversation. On Father’s Day last week I thought about G, got curious about what he was up to, texted him and wished him and L a good weekend.
Two days later L texted back from G’s cell phone: G is not doing well with his colon cancer. He was admitted to … Hospital… and is under comfort care….
I was not familiar with the medical lingo “comfort care,” but I suspected it was one of those descriptions that really meant the opposite of the literal meaning. I called another friend who is a nurse for a translation. He confirmed my fear. “Your friend must be very sick. Go see him quick,” my nurse friend urged me.
I went to see G at the hospital the next day. Although his wife L told me his mind was lucid, I didn’t think G recognized me. He could have been just too tired. He opened his eyes a few times during the two or three hours I was there. It did not look like he registered my presence there.
His three children were there. Two of them flew back from their jobs in Europe to be with Dad. Two mutual friends came to visit too, whom I had not seen for years. There were another two people that I did not know. They were his children’s friends. G has always been a good and kind man. That was why so many people were there to wish him well. Whether or not he singled me out was not that important. I hope he did. But I was quite sure that he knew he was surrounded and supported by his loving family and a lot of good friends. I hope that helped lift his spirit a bit.
I’ve known G for thirty-some years now. Like me, we each raised a family about the same time. Unlike me, he has always been a religious man, and he always acted like one. But G, here are a few words — shall I call it a prayer? — from your ungodly friend:
For My Dear Friend G
Oh God, I know people get sick
I did, and I didn’t get to pick
Oh God, some people get real sick
I did, just a while ago
You spared me and that time you let me go
Now my dear friend G is sick, very sick
Colon cancer
His inside impaled by a lancer
Is that the answer, what answer?
Oh God, you let me stay
Please help G do the same
Won’t you, my amazing grace?
*** The End ***
(The dissemination of this writing is for non-commercial enjoyment only. The author reserves the copyright for himself)
Note: Click here to continue browsing other writings and works of Camillus Chan within this site
