“I don’t know, dude… I just don’t know why any woman would ever choose to love me.” My friend took a big swig of beer as we both looked up into the night sky.
“What the heck are you talking about? Any girl would be lucky to have you,” I reassured him.
“Lucky,” he chuckled, “that’s not what I would call it.”
My buddy had lived the first twenty-three years of his life with the death sentence of cystic fibrosis hanging over his head. He normally tried to remain optimistic and confident. Maybe it was just the alcohol talking on this quiet night. Looking back, I suspect it was just a moment of honest self-reflection.
He then said in all seriousness, “I can’t have kids and I probably won’t live past my thirties. How could I ever ask a woman to marry that?”
I quickly responded, “You don’t look for a woman who wants to marry that… you just look for a woman who wants to marry you. None of us know how long we have on this Earth.”
“I feel sorry for anyone stupid enough to love me. They are just asking to get hurt,” my friend muttered as he stared down into his empty beer bottle.
“Shut up, man,” I told him emphatically, “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Go get some sleep.”
This was not the person that my friend usually allowed the rest of the world to see. He was usually funny and boisterous. He was gentle and kindhearted. He would go on to courageously live the next two decades of his life with a sense of purpose. However, I suspect that he spent many of his early years worrying that he would someday become a burden and a source of pain to those around him.
I received the phone call a few days ago that I long feared. My friend had finally succumbed to cystic fibrosis at the age of forty-five. I immediately packed my bags and drove across the state to attend his funeral. What I found did not surprise me.
I found a kind and beautiful wife who was absolutely grief-stricken. I found her two children that my friend had been raising as his own. He had been a world-class husband and father. His family was surrounded by a large circle of friends who were completely heartbroken. I met a huge group of wonderful people who loved my old friend fearlessly. They saw a man each day with an infectious smile and an inspirational attitude… not some doomed soul with an early expiration date. Most importantly, I met a group of amazing individuals who would love this man all over again if given a second chance. In the end, he filled an entire church with a massive crowd of people who were not afraid to love him.
We all miss him right now.
We are all hurting.
I hope he realized at some point in his life that he would always be worth the pain.
