Me and Denise went to Easy In to get some food tonight, she wasn't sure what all their Deli had. She had worked hard and didn't want to cook and she hates when I cook since I'm messy. There were several people there, some getting fuel, some a drink and candy bar, and a few getting food. Everything was pretty typical all in all. A man came in and was waiting as a lady was counting her change to pay for her stuff, hoping she had enough she had saved up. The guy was greasy and dirty, then again, so was I. He paced from foot to foot, briefly looking over at us while we waited for our food to be prepared. He noticed Denise in her nursing uniform and said "My wife just lost her job at the hospital. She is a CNA I think they call it." Denise looked at said it was terrible. I asked which hospital and he told me, still pacing foot to foot. Then he said UT had hired her and he might need to find a job close to there because of the drive she would have to do.
He stood still for a minute then said, "It's been 17 years since I've had a drink." He turned and looked me in the eye, his eyes were crossed but in those eyes was real pain, real fear, and real kindness, though he tried to act tough. "My sister just died of cancer about 2 months ago, I watched her slowly die", he said then looked around to see who was where. "My dad's dying of cancer in the hospital. I want to bring him home where I can care for him. I've stayed dry for 17 years and then in all this I caved". I gave my condolences on his wife and dad. He said everybody had been fussing about his drinking again and he is trying to stop, but people keep on judging him. Now in the morning I can barely speak and by evening I slowly fade away, even at my best I sound like Wolfman Jack. He began to talk. He told me how much he gets paid an hour, where he works, where he was from, and who he married. Then he asked where I was from and if I knew her. The first round didn't take, he couldn't hear or understand me. So I apologized and told him I had a lot of damage from the radiation from having Throat Cancer. He looked so shocked and asked how it was. I told him hopefully it is gone. Pacing back and forth slowed to a stop. I asked where his dad's cancer was, he placed his hand and softly beat his chest two or three times, "The lungs. He is dying. Hes too far gone, But I can take care of him." he said, looking me over. No hair grows in the radiation area, my beard just stops. Without warning he stepped over and hugged me and told me he loves me. I told him I love him too and that everything will be ok. I could smell alcohol on him then. He must have hugged me three or four times, each time telling me he loved me, the he pumped gas and waved as we left the station, his wife looking on from the car.
As we rode home Denise smiled and said, "Only you." This happens to me a lot when I'm out and Denise is use to it. I still am not use to it. People have told me things I would never tell anybody if it were me. Small kids run up and either talk to me or just smile and stare. I told her before Gerald (uncle that helped raise me) I looked at people that had a drinking problem or drug problem, with a judgmental look, usually puffing on a cigarette and saying I didn't understand how someone could be addicted. Even before my heart attack I had learned to stop doing that, after Gerald became an alcoholic. Joe (oldest son) was murdered and less than eight months later Annie (his mother) died in his arms. He began to drink to kill the pain, perhaps as this man tonight did. I say I wouldn't do it that way, but it is only by God's Grace and Mercy that I hopefully will never have to see.
I stood there and only said Its gonna be ok. Its gonna be fine. And that I am sorry. That is I felt compelled to say. I could have told him how great it is being with God, but I didn't feel I was suppose to say that. Right or wrong, I felt I was only suppose to listen and listen without judgement. He latched into to me tight and held me for a while and just kept saying he loved me, and I said it back. I think sometimes we need to be still and let someone get things off their chest, hold them if they offer, and tell them you love them if they say it. No judgement, no superiority, no words of wisdom. I learned as a child to look into the eyes, for the eyes are the mirror to the soul. I don't do that in crowds after the heart attack for not only can I read that part, but I feel it as well. One would be surprised just how many are out there that are hurting inside, lonely, scared, sad.
I have said time and time again, I would not have chosen to have a Lymes, heart attack, NDE, or two cancers... let alone rip my body apart. Yet it is the worse best things that have ever happened to me. I reluctantly am part of a few clubs, and members talk differently to members. No matter if God allowed or caused these things to happen to me, they happened. Either way, I pray I use it for good. This is what life is suppose to be about, someone else being more important to me than I am to me. I think sometimes we are called to silently comfort and sometimes to testify, but always to love without condition. I pray for him that he finds peace and that God has someone else lined up to help him see tomorrow as bright as it can be.
He stood still for a minute then said, "It's been 17 years since I've had a drink." He turned and looked me in the eye, his eyes were crossed but in those eyes was real pain, real fear, and real kindness, though he tried to act tough. "My sister just died of cancer about 2 months ago, I watched her slowly die", he said then looked around to see who was where. "My dad's dying of cancer in the hospital. I want to bring him home where I can care for him. I've stayed dry for 17 years and then in all this I caved". I gave my condolences on his wife and dad. He said everybody had been fussing about his drinking again and he is trying to stop, but people keep on judging him. Now in the morning I can barely speak and by evening I slowly fade away, even at my best I sound like Wolfman Jack. He began to talk. He told me how much he gets paid an hour, where he works, where he was from, and who he married. Then he asked where I was from and if I knew her. The first round didn't take, he couldn't hear or understand me. So I apologized and told him I had a lot of damage from the radiation from having Throat Cancer. He looked so shocked and asked how it was. I told him hopefully it is gone. Pacing back and forth slowed to a stop. I asked where his dad's cancer was, he placed his hand and softly beat his chest two or three times, "The lungs. He is dying. Hes too far gone, But I can take care of him." he said, looking me over. No hair grows in the radiation area, my beard just stops. Without warning he stepped over and hugged me and told me he loves me. I told him I love him too and that everything will be ok. I could smell alcohol on him then. He must have hugged me three or four times, each time telling me he loved me, the he pumped gas and waved as we left the station, his wife looking on from the car.
As we rode home Denise smiled and said, "Only you." This happens to me a lot when I'm out and Denise is use to it. I still am not use to it. People have told me things I would never tell anybody if it were me. Small kids run up and either talk to me or just smile and stare. I told her before Gerald (uncle that helped raise me) I looked at people that had a drinking problem or drug problem, with a judgmental look, usually puffing on a cigarette and saying I didn't understand how someone could be addicted. Even before my heart attack I had learned to stop doing that, after Gerald became an alcoholic. Joe (oldest son) was murdered and less than eight months later Annie (his mother) died in his arms. He began to drink to kill the pain, perhaps as this man tonight did. I say I wouldn't do it that way, but it is only by God's Grace and Mercy that I hopefully will never have to see.
I stood there and only said Its gonna be ok. Its gonna be fine. And that I am sorry. That is I felt compelled to say. I could have told him how great it is being with God, but I didn't feel I was suppose to say that. Right or wrong, I felt I was only suppose to listen and listen without judgement. He latched into to me tight and held me for a while and just kept saying he loved me, and I said it back. I think sometimes we need to be still and let someone get things off their chest, hold them if they offer, and tell them you love them if they say it. No judgement, no superiority, no words of wisdom. I learned as a child to look into the eyes, for the eyes are the mirror to the soul. I don't do that in crowds after the heart attack for not only can I read that part, but I feel it as well. One would be surprised just how many are out there that are hurting inside, lonely, scared, sad.
I have said time and time again, I would not have chosen to have a Lymes, heart attack, NDE, or two cancers... let alone rip my body apart. Yet it is the worse best things that have ever happened to me. I reluctantly am part of a few clubs, and members talk differently to members. No matter if God allowed or caused these things to happen to me, they happened. Either way, I pray I use it for good. This is what life is suppose to be about, someone else being more important to me than I am to me. I think sometimes we are called to silently comfort and sometimes to testify, but always to love without condition. I pray for him that he finds peace and that God has someone else lined up to help him see tomorrow as bright as it can be.
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