I was reminded in church yesterday that Muslims are approaching Ramadan, and it is especially a time of asking forgiveness from those whom we have hurt over the last year. Of course, the time to ask for forgiveness is hopefully somewhere near the time of the offense one has committed against another person. That led me to try to put an end to a hurtful series of email exchanges I’ve had with a former associate in the antiques business, an exchange that began early in the summer and culminated yesterday afternoon. In my thinking, I give thanks to God for the words I heard during yesterday’s sermon and the courage to ask someone to forgive my hard headed behavior and accusatory words. Regardless of where the truth lies in such exchanges, it is ultimately important to acknowledge our humanness, and if appropriate, ask for indulgence, and then try to do better in the future. I’m learning, slowly, to think about doing the next right thing, not just for others, but for myself as well.
In the course of sitting at the baking company virtually every morning since I’ve been here in Santa Fe, I met a guy who finally told me today that he is facing a test for crypto-coccal meningitis. Until today, I had never heard of this. The extent of our contact has been our several conversations on the patio there. It’s obvious from talking to him that he is bright, educated, well-read and funny. Today I discovered that he is also scared shitless. He’s been in Santa Fe this time for about three weeks, and he’s living out of his van, along with two Great Pyrenes. He says that he’s degreed, an artist, a certified EMT, the list of his credentials is long. Who knows? I’ve just sort of taken him for what I see and enjoyed the verbal sparring we’ve shared. Today, he asked me for a ride to deliver his two dogs to a friend’s home out on Rodeo Road. The conversation on the way back finally led me to ask him if the test for meningitis he’s having is HIV-related. You know the answer.
Let’s give the guy a name. Chad has told me more than once now that his goal is to feed one other person…I guess that would most likely be a homeless person…each day Monday through Friday, and three on Saturday. I didn’t ask how he came up with these numbers. Again, I just took the statement at face value. He started a part-time job at Trader Joe’s last week. If what he tells me about the spinal tap he’s having is correct, he will be in the doctor’s office in less than 15 minutes, and soon he will know something that will change his life forever, again. He told me that he sat in the rose garden that separates Galisteo from Galisteo Parkway after he found out the doctor’s initial concerns three weeks ago, and he couldn’t take a deep breath. He’s been HIV+ for 20 years.
I’m getting the opportunity again to think about the preciousness of life, on the heels of watching our mother die after a long, debilitating illness, one that robbed her of what she valued most, her sense of independence and self worth. She would have been 90 yesterday. I already knew life is precious, but I also know that we hang to life by a thread, and we see miracles everyday without recognizing them.
From where I sit, I know that my creator has blessed me with a mind and a heart that can be used to make this place a better one. I have stumbled and fallen more times than I can count. I don’t need anyone else to punch me in the gut to remind me of my humanness. I do a good enough job of punching myself. I thank God for this life, and I thank God for all the opportunities I get to recognize and do something about the privilege of being here.
In the course of sitting at the baking company virtually every morning since I’ve been here in Santa Fe, I met a guy who finally told me today that he is facing a test for crypto-coccal meningitis. Until today, I had never heard of this. The extent of our contact has been our several conversations on the patio there. It’s obvious from talking to him that he is bright, educated, well-read and funny. Today I discovered that he is also scared shitless. He’s been in Santa Fe this time for about three weeks, and he’s living out of his van, along with two Great Pyrenes. He says that he’s degreed, an artist, a certified EMT, the list of his credentials is long. Who knows? I’ve just sort of taken him for what I see and enjoyed the verbal sparring we’ve shared. Today, he asked me for a ride to deliver his two dogs to a friend’s home out on Rodeo Road. The conversation on the way back finally led me to ask him if the test for meningitis he’s having is HIV-related. You know the answer.
Let’s give the guy a name. Chad has told me more than once now that his goal is to feed one other person…I guess that would most likely be a homeless person…each day Monday through Friday, and three on Saturday. I didn’t ask how he came up with these numbers. Again, I just took the statement at face value. He started a part-time job at Trader Joe’s last week. If what he tells me about the spinal tap he’s having is correct, he will be in the doctor’s office in less than 15 minutes, and soon he will know something that will change his life forever, again. He told me that he sat in the rose garden that separates Galisteo from Galisteo Parkway after he found out the doctor’s initial concerns three weeks ago, and he couldn’t take a deep breath. He’s been HIV+ for 20 years.
I’m getting the opportunity again to think about the preciousness of life, on the heels of watching our mother die after a long, debilitating illness, one that robbed her of what she valued most, her sense of independence and self worth. She would have been 90 yesterday. I already knew life is precious, but I also know that we hang to life by a thread, and we see miracles everyday without recognizing them.
From where I sit, I know that my creator has blessed me with a mind and a heart that can be used to make this place a better one. I have stumbled and fallen more times than I can count. I don’t need anyone else to punch me in the gut to remind me of my humanness. I do a good enough job of punching myself. I thank God for this life, and I thank God for all the opportunities I get to recognize and do something about the privilege of being here.
No comments:
Post a Comment