Immediately, I think of life without me.
Sarah, Che, the girls, kids and my grandchildren fill me with visions of what it'll be like for them when I'm gone loading me with melancholy.
I see lives without me, after all the world goes on as I've witnessed hundreds of times already when people I love and respected died and, life goes after they left ... as it will when I finally leave.
A believer in spiritual things, I'm convinced it doesn't simply end, though it may and that's okay if it does because it's been a rich and wonderful life I've lived, so who am I to ask for more, though I do and am convinced God's got plans.
We'll see, as I'm fond of saying about most things promised.
Things settled though and now I'm living with Cancer which is a whole new way of getting through days, using all my energy to fight the unwanted squatter inside my body and give every ounce of love to Sarah and the kids NOW, because there may not be a THEN.
Still, there are marvelous distractions.
Sarah's the biggest as she embodies love amidst chaos, craziness and the cacophony of demands placed on her every day.
Living with Cancer means I appreciate the beauty of the earth in deeper and more immediate ways than I ever have before.
A full white moon in a deep blue sky stops me dead in my tracks, Fran's thousand shades of green are lusher than I've ever seen, the pungent aroma of the Marsh is orgasmic and the majesty of the Ocean has never been more regal filling my eyes with its salt water.
And every single day since I learned of the Terrorists hostile take over of my body, there's been an constant outpouring of love, good karma, good wishes and prayers on mine and Sarah's behalf.
People have stopped what they're doing, purposely interrupting an already busy day, to post a message, send a text, write an email, mail a card or letter, call, cook or buy and deliver a meal, give money to help or even drive all the way to our house to make music in the front yard just for us.
They are hundreds of them, encompassing every facet of my life ... childhood chums to recent acquaintances ... old friends I haven't heard from in decades to the constant companions ... co-workers and professional peers ... and confidants I had no idea hold me in such regard.
They share stories of things we shared, most of which I recall though far too many I have no recollection of leaving me full of wonder how I've lost something so meaningful to them yet forgotten to me.
Most things shared open damns long shut in my head unleashing fond memories of times together, adventures enjoyed, demons exorcised and laughter raised from the dead like Angel songs filling me with joy.
There are people unknown to me completely but who have known Sarah at important crossroads of her life as she's been there for them or they for her and somehow pancreatic Cancer has reunited them and made introductions of me.
The wonder of this eclectic collection of people is nothing short of miraculous, leaving me to consider this community of believers in Sarah and me, each individually pausing to reach across time and space to do Holy acts, rooted in love and giving.
I'd thought most had dropped out of my life, moving on to make the best of their own, yet for a moment anyway, they've stopped to become ... a church.
Most mistakenly believe Church is a building, fixed order of worship or some adherence to creed or doctrine.
It's not.
Individuals coming together to perform acts of giving and love make Church happen.
And a few hundred is a good size Church by anyone's standard.
How does one say thank you to unadulterated kindness, support and love?
We are overwhelmed with appreciation, gratitude and are sustained because of the community of believers.
I can only illustrate it be sharing part of the offering once received in the bucket at Bar Church where there are no offering plates and if someone's moved to give, they quietly drop something inside.
My favorite every was a note scribbled on a cocktail napkin that read what I'd like to say to each and every one of you, my beloved community of believers.
"Thank you Lord for thinking 'bout me, I'm alive and doing fine."
