My Life Achievement Award

Standing behind the podium, I realize Sarah's let go of my hand, after walking me up the stairs to the stage, and I see her smiling and encouraging me to proceed. 

The plan is for her to stand beside me and when I fade, she'll give the speech she wrote. We planned it this way because the last time I gave one, I passed out and Sarah had to shove me out of the way to finish. 

Instead, she let go of my hand, is blowing me kisses and says, "Go on."

Unprepared and confused, I turn my head to see 300 people standing, clapping and smiling. 

Suddenly, for a moment anyway, I'm back home.  

Staring at the beauty of the crowd, I stand silently until they become silent, sit and wait. 

I watch Sarah return to the table with Che, and Terry Ball who drove from Atlanta when he got wind this was happening.  

They smile at me and I feel love. 

This all came out of nowhere. 

An old colleague calls, and when I don't return the calls, she frantically messages, demanding we talk. 

I'm not up for talking, so I message back.  

And Kathryn congratulates me on winning the "Lifetime Achievement Award", given by the Georgia Alliance to End Homelessness. 

Stunned silent, I have nothing to say in response, overwhelmed by emotions long buried and put to rest. 

I feel the crowd wait on me to speak. 

"It's been 15 years," I say to the gathering, "since I've professionally worked with homeless people, but it's been less than 24 hours since one of them got in touch with me, inviting me to meet his wife and he who are vacationing nearby. He's a successful Chef now."

It's a funny blessing, who I still hear from all those decades ago. Most were homeless.  Work relationships faded but, but so many others never seem to forget.

"I am humbled to have been chosen for such an honored and prestigious award," I say, thinking about Darren and Wilma, who just wrapped up that vacation and are now back at work.

"There is a lot of romance in homeless shelters," I continue. 

"If you hang around shelters, you know there are a lot of homeless hookups ..." and the assembly begins laughing because they obviously know. 

"Homeless hookups can happen anywhere and at anytime. On top of the Laundry Room washing machine.  Under dinning room tables.  On the Chapel floor."

Everyone laughs knowingly. 

"I had a homeless hookup," I laugh, pointing at Sarah. "We built Union Mission together, then she left for a decade, but came back and now it's true love and sometimes homeless hookups work out!"

Everyone laughingly applauds.

I'm a couple of sentences into my speech and feel myself wearing out, so I rush to finish. 

"And no one does anything alone in life," I say in conclusion, pointing to Terry, who is genuinely enjoying the moment, "and there would be no structured homeless help at all were it not for him."

We catch eyes, smile and share a joyful moment enjoying the moment. 

There are so many others to thank but I'm exhausted, so I thank everyone and stumble towards Sarah, when the photographer grabs me and I remember that I'd forgotten this part of these events. 

It takes forever snapping photographs. 

Back at the table, Che crawls in my lap. Kathryn smiles, happy with how things went. Sarah and Terry are whispering and laughing to themselves. 

"Kat, I gotta go," I say, blatantly playing the Cancer card, so we can leave early. 

"Of course," she says, lovingly squeezing my arm. 

We leave.  

It is surreal. 

I am incredibly thankful. 

Che got to dress up and, for a second, catch a glimpse of the Daddy she's never known, and, for better and worse, she got to see it, touch it, taste it and feel it, a little anyway. 

I never dreamed she would.  

And Sarah and I got to celebrate it.

In spite of the good, the bad and the ugly of my career, our love was born in it, we thrive out of it and she's my perfect partner. 

"Want to get Leopoid's?" Terry happily grins, holding my plaque, because it's much too heavy for me to carry. 

We decline, collectively hug and happily say our goodbyes. 

It's silent while Sarah drives us home. 

"What did you think Che?" I ask our daughter.  

"Can we get McDonalds on the way home," she counters.

"Absolutely," Sarah laughs, because hotel banquet food has not improved at all since we frequented such affairs.  

                          ********

My Celebration of Life is winding down to the end while Sarah and Che have a whole new life together, coming soon

You can be part of their future at https://gofund.me/ffda4f4b

What's Next?

 



"So what's your next big trip," my son asks?

"No," I reply in a very flat affect, "those days are over."

There's silence on the other end of the phone.  

"Maybe Sarah will work some more magic," I wistfully add, "who knows?"

The silence remains for a second before we move on to other topics, but the reality remains, those days are done.

I'm thankful beyond belief of everything we've done over 5 years of cancer! Colorado white water rafting, Che's 1st trip to Disney, riding donkeys in Mexico on Thanksgiving, are but a few examples of Sarah's determination that life remain joyful, loving and fun!

The following day, I am violently ill. 

I have a tendency not to remember such episodes so have no idea when the last time it's been this bad.  Surely it was when I was still on chemo. 

Sarah's immediately thrown into overload capacity but she somehow gracefully manages, from cleaning my puke to carting Che and a friend on a play date, while wondering which hospital I may need.  

Che is wary around me, keeping a watchful eye and at my side instantly if I call her, but otherwise staying away to give me space.  

She and Sarah hug a lot.

"Dear God," I plead, "just get me back to where I was.  You don't have to heal me."

Miraculously, yet again, I rally. 

The last week or so are a blur.  My birthday was lovely. Che and I swam every day.  Sarah plays catch-up. 

We're exhausted and talk openly about it. 

"Any disruption to the Bubble we live in takes days to recover from," she says. 

Agreeing, I nod but have nothing to add. 

"Dad's better Mom!" Che yells at Sarah who laughs while she busily tends the foster puppies.

For the moment, I am back to where I was.  

Thank God.

                             ***

My Celebration of Life is winding down to the end while Sarah and Che have a whole new life together, coming soon

Help them do it right without me at https://gofund.me/ffda4f4b

Own a piece of the Rev

 

It's wonderful being able to reflect on,  enjoy and appreciate my Celebration of Life.

It really was wonderful and no one enjoyed it more than I did!

Not a lot of people can say that. 

Most are dead at their funeral or celebrations of life and never get to enjoy anything at all, but I'm going to continue enjoying the Hell out of mine, until I can't. 

But it's over and I have to get serious about dying again.

Hope for the best but plan for the worse, the old adage goes, but I'm living exclusively off hope now, so it's time to plan

Forever I've said I want to be buried at Sea, which is legal here, relatively easy to do, so long as you notify the agencies within 30 days of the disposal, but by then the fish would be fat off of me. 

Friends with boats have already offered to handle the logistics (thank you guys!) so everything is sort of set. 

Except, that's a lot to dump on Sarah and Che after I die.  They'd have to handle my body from the time I expire until my burial at Sea. I don't want to do that to them. 

So, I've resigned to being cremated, purely based on convenience to Sarah and Che, and cost. 

I'd resigned myself to this until Johnny O asked me if Sarah was going to scatter my ashes somewhere. 

"No, there won't be a service or anything.  She can put me in a baggie for all I care."

Johnny's face lights up like I haven't since the days we used to have lots of great ideas. 

"Picture this," he says, holding two hands up, to frame it.  

"For only $99.95, plus shipping and handling, you too can own a piece of the Rev! You'll receive a baggie of the Rev's ashes to do whatever you want with. You can even pass it on to future generations.  Order yours now! Get one before they sell out! Supplies are limited!"

"BRILLIANT!!!" I exclaim.  "That fits in perfect with my GoFundMe ( https://gofund.me/ffda4f4b ) campaign. What a great way to bring it to a close!"

Johnny leaves and I rush inside wanting to share everything with Sarah.

"You know," she adds on reflection, "we should offer 10% off for everybody who preorders."

"BRILLIANT!!!" I gleefully exclaim.

So I've got something to live for now in bringing this campaign to an end. 

This is going to be such fun.

As soon as we figure out which baggie size to use.

There is no disappointment I Dying.

 

"I love my life as much as I ever did and will cling on to it for as long as I can, but life without death has become as unthinkable to me as day without night or waking without sleep," wrote Frederick Buechner, long before he died.

I sympathize greatly with his struggle to accept death, almost welcome it, as a simple part of the journey of life.

Of course, my favorite author also said that "resurrection means the worst thing is never the last thing", and what's not to like about that if you're getting close to the end.  

The worst thing, dying, is not the last thing. 

He says the love of God is going to do something else, but what that's going to be is anybody's guess.

I find comfort in these thoughts, so long as they extend to everyone, regardless of their faith, ethnicity, education or if they believe in anything at all. 

Throughout my life I've believed in the teachings of Jesus. I tried to keep them as my guiding lights in the sometimes dark worlds I've lived through, and that has worked well for me. 

It's been messy as Hell, but it got me this far and I am thankful for that. 

The resurrection of Jesus wasn't really part of my faith system, a part of the story that I needed. 

How to live my life was more important to me than if it goes on somehow, into eternity. 

And that's precisely where I am now as I prepare myself as best I can for the "worst thing."

It doesn't matter to me if there's anything else.

What a life I've had, far more epic Greek Comedy Tragedy than mere boring biography.

I did a lot but ended up madly in love, happily raising our love child, with friends who support our crazy ways to squeeze every ounce of life out of the time I have left. 

As funny as it seems, I am living my best life with multiple cancers, a frail and failing body, and a mind that isn't as sharp as it used to be.  

Sarah and Che keep me inside their protective cocoon of love. 

I say that's ending my life on top of the world. 

As for what's next?

I don't see how anyone can be disappointed when they die.  

You're deader than a doornail when you're buried or burned, and that's that, just dark silence. 

There's nothing. 

Or something happens. 

Either way, I won't be disappointed.

                      ⚰️⚰️⚰️⚰️

My Celebration is winding down to the end while Sarah and Che have a whole new life together, coming soon

You can be part of their future at https://gofund.me/ffda4f4b

Dancing in the sunshine

 

On Father's Day, Sarah and Che presented me with Banana Tree shrubs because I love them.  

"You have to stay alive until they bloom Dad," Che smiles.  

"It takes a year to a year-and-a-half to bloom," Sarah smiles.

I erupt in laughter at the preposterousness of the idea, and end up smiling with them. 

Since then, the shrubs have sat on a window sill, just out of direct sunlight, per the instructions. 

Today, I planted them, two in the ground and two in pots. 

They still make me smile. 

It is an unclouded day now but they're calling for thunderstorms soon. 

It sounds like a Biblical prophesy aimed just at me.  

For the moment though, our banana trees are firmly taking root, baptized in water I shower them with and dancing in the bright, hot sunshine.  

And for these moments, so am I, still smiling because of the love that surrounds me.  

                       ☀️☀️☀️

My Celebration is winding down to the end,  while Sarah and Che have a whole new beginning coming soon. 

Be a part of their moving and future at https://gofund.me/ffda4f4b

Lost in the moments

 

"You make dying sound fun and nice," my friend Christian points out and I suppose that I do, focusing on the living and not the dying. 

He's who's not busy doing one is doing the other, Nobel Prize winner Bob Dylan sang, and I suppose that's what I'm doing. 

A lot of people get cancer, or sick, and focus on dying, or what's going wrong, instead of living now and before you know it, things are bad. 

I'm not doing that. 

I'm focusing on what I've got now and making the most of it while I've got it.  

That meant dispensing cares about things like a funeral, which I have absolutely no investment in, or a party either before I die, or soon after, that's simply a major inconvenience for anyone involved, and I don't want that.  

Having released ourselves from these, I'm free to focus on things that bring me joy. 

Mostly hanging out with Sarah and Che. 

We float in the "celebration of life" pool in the backyard, every single day.  Often, multiple times.

We love our moments.

There's no such thing as a great ending, otherwise everybody would do them repeatedly. 

Throughout my life, I've been surprised by my endings. 

Graduations, marriages, work, friendships, hopes, dreams and wishes all came as a shock when they ended without me having any real idea what was happening, and I'm resolved to not be surprised now that I'm at the end.  

"Dad, will you be alive when I can drive?" Che asks, "cause I'll drive you anywhere you want to go."

"Awe Baby that is so sweet" and she looks at me with giant blue moon eyes, I answer, "Probably not", shrugging my shoulders and smiling.  

It's coming and there's no use in denying it, so we don't, talking about dying openly when it's needed.  

But it's not something we dwell on.

We're too busy living in the moment.

"I'm going to get some dirt," Sarah says, completing her list, "so we can plant the Banana Trees we got you for Father's Day."

Che told me I have to stay alive until they bloom. 

We'll plant them together, planing for the worse while hoping for the best.

In the meantime, I'm focusing everything I've got on my joys of living every single day. 

Caressing Sarah's feet in the evening. 

Snuggling with Che on the sofa sharing TikToks. 

Following behind Lainey as she drags me on walks most every morning. 

And floating on our backs in the pool, looking at the clouds, and staying lost in these moments, because they're all we have anyway.

                           ******

My Celebration is winding down keep to the end while Sarah and Che have a whole new beginning! You can be part of their future at https://gofund.me/ffda4f4b

A Party Lingers

 The best part about having my "Celebration of Life" now, rather than later, is it's over and I'm not dead yet.  

I've attended, or conducted, a lot of "Celebration of Life" services in my time and not a single person being honored ever survived.

Flipping my Celebration of Life to now, rather than later, now leaves me in uncharted territory.

There are no guidebooks or Funeral Director advice on what to do if you survive your service so we're making it up as we go.

The Celebration's over but a little after party lingers.

I love summer, so I'm delighting in it one more time.

Sarah built a pool in the backyard that Che and I float, talk and play in almost every day, and I'm delirious that I can still manage to do it after 5 years of all this cancer.

Lainey drags me for a walk most mornings (we call this "exercise" in our house), into a nature preserve complete with trails, forests, lagoons, marshlands, ball fields and I am overwhelmed by the beauty of the earth, sometimes to tears, so blessed I can still get outside every day.

Sarah makes plans for the things we're doing soon, from Beach trips to concerts, and I get caught up in the excitement.  

"I gotta keep giving you reasons to live," she smiles, and I am baptized in hope beyond hopes that they'll happen.

They give me Banana tree roots for Father's Day and Che gleefully tells me I have to live until they bloom.

"It takes a year to a year-and-a-half," Sarah adds, grinning, and I'm reminded that this is it, time's running out, and if I'm going to enjoy what's left of this life, I better do it now.  

Sarah and Che talk about the future sometimes, where they might live, possible schools to attend, things they want to do when they can, and it gives a sense of closure that the people I love most are going to be alright without me.

Sipping red wine, flying high from the garden, I thank God for the Holy host of Angels who made all of this possible, celebrating my celebration in the most tangible ways, as part of GoFundMe contributions or stopping by with gifts from the Garden, and I'm overwhelmed by the love we feel.

"You look good!" I'm told and I am so grateful that, externally anyway, people tell me and seem sincere, reminding me of all the symptoms I've dodged so far.  

In spite of everything, I know how blessed I am and thank God out loud several times a day.

How long the party will linger is anyone's guess, and we've learned to not think about things happening next week, much less next month.  

We stay caught up in one day at a time, and that's plenty enough, so we remain focused on the moment.

Though Sarah's always planning, and with this gift of time and enough health left, I wouldn't be surprised if she's got another Bucket List item to cross off for me.

Who knows?

During my Celebration of Life on the cruise, I chronicled every sunrise and, one night, all three of us watched the setting sun together.

Now I look at the pictures and note how hard it is to tell the difference between a rising sun and a setting one, blurring together into one vast, and incredible display of light, color and majesty. 

It's hard to tell the difference between the beginning and the end of the sun's coming and going, and I find great comfort and hope in it. 

                         ********

You can help my Celebration keep going all the way to the end at https://gofund.me/ffda4f4b

I Love, therefore, I Am

 

My preferred way to die is after lunch with Sarah and Che. These days we sit at the little table in our dining room, eat, chat and laugh.

An hour or so later, I stumble to the hammock, under the shade of the trees in the backyard.

I love laying in the hammock.

When I think about it, it would be an excellent way for me to go.  

Sun shinning on my face, swinging on a soft breeze, fall asleep and that's it, I die.

Clean up would be easy for Sarah and Che because I'm already basically rolled up in my personal Shroud of Turin.

We still have to figure the disposal out, but we'd just assume they leave my body on side of the road, and let the County cover it as a pauper's funeral.

It's frigging expensive to take care of the diseased in this country, thousands of dollars which so many can't afford!

So there's the whole after death mess to plan but I'm more focused on how I'd actually prefer to die peacefully in the hammock.

But then I get to thinking about it.  

Che loves the hammock like I do, often diving in with me so we can swing, play, sing, talk and cuddle.

It would suck if she dives into the hammock like she normally does and I'm dead.

That takes all of the joy out of dying in my hammock.

No matter how I envision it, my death leaves physical and emotional messes behind for Sarah and Che to clean up.

In the end, there's just no great way to go.

It defies planning.

Sarah's a big planner so I've not given up that she'll come up with a workable solutions.

Surprisingly, the words of Rene Descartes float into my head, "I think, therefore, I am."

I've always thought this to be as real as it gets when it comes to human existence, but laying here in the hammock, and I think there's more to it.  

I love, therefore, I am.

That seems more sound to me. Perhaps not as logical, but it feels more right, and I ride my feelings with wild abandon now.

"Love never dies" I was taught in Sunday School and I've believed it with everything in me.

Now I'm going to actually see.

                             *****

You can help my Celebration going all the way to the end at https://gofund.me/ffda4f4b

Not Killing the Celebration Just Yet

 

To each of you who bought in on my celebration of life now, rather than later, I want to express my sincere and heart filled gratitude for helping to make it happen. 

You can never say "Thank you" enough in life, Ben S. Barnes taught me that, and I still have some life left yet, so I'm expressing my sincere gratitude. 

As far as "Celebrations of Life" go, mine was epic!!

And I happily lived through it!!!

Not a lot of people can say that.

Anyway, the 8 day Caribbean Cruise to Aruba, Bonaire and Curacao, with Sarah and Che was as perfect as a sunrise on the Sea. 

We mostly hung out on our 2nd deck balcony, literally right above the Sea, so the view was always impeccable and we were content sitting there together.  

Eating was fun too, though we never made it to the dinning room, so I packed pants for no reason. Instead, we'd leave the balcony and make our way to the buffets for whatever we chose. 

I drank like a fish, ate like a pig and still lost a pound when the cruise was over. 

We just enjoyed being together. 

The biggest excitement was Che surprising us by entering the Hula Hoop competition, making it to the final round, coming in 4th!

Sarah and I dance together to "Wonderful Tonight" on a balcony in the Atrium, until Che cut in to finish the song.

It was a perfect celebration and now, blessedly, life lingers, so there's an after party for as long as we can keep it going.

I've been surprised by many things in life. 

Messy endings, glorious failures, obtaining Congressional funding for homeless people that the Congressman had absolutely no idea he'd sponsored, and people who don't do what they say they're going to do, left me suspicious of things sneaking up on me.  

Like dying.

It's time to get serious about it.  

It'll happen quickly when it happens and I think, hope, and pray it's convenient. 

Sarah and Che have enough emotional overload over the past 5 years of caregiving, and I don't want to add to it. 

So the first part of the celebration comes to an official end, though spontaneous and unsanctioned toasts and prayers may continue for a while. 

When I'm gone, life goes on for Sarah Che and Lainey, and it should be a celebration of new beginnings.

There's nothing to be sad about.

Our time together, and the intensity of the love and friendship, is the apex of a strange and wonderful life, coming to a climax now and I'm going to drag this out as long as I can. 

In the meantime, I remember the words of another mentor, Frederick Buechner. 

"The life I touch for good or ill will touch another life, and in turn another, until who knows where the trembling stops or in what far place my touch will be felt. To be wise is to be eternally curious."

Say what you will but I've often been reminded that curiosity kills the cat, which is probably why we're dog people, but it's got me pretty fueled right now, about Sarah and Che's future.  

And about mine too. 

                          *****

Continue the Celebration at https://gofund.me/ffda4f4b

Living and Longing

 

Every morning I'm up, waking-and-baking, sipping coffee on the 11th deck, watching the sunrise, with a handful of fellow cruisers.

Josh and his wife sit at the table beside me. They're giddy cruisers, taking advantage of everything, smiling and bleary eyed, they greet me warmly, and we baptize ourselves in golden beams bouncing off of the Sea. 

I marvel at a lone bird circling the boat in the middle of the Ocean. 

How in God's name does it do that?

And why?

After the sunrise, I seek shade on a comfortable outside sofa and collect whatever thoughts I have. 

I am mindful of the passing of things. 

I've loved the Caribbean my whole life and spent a lot of time and money here. And I've loved every single second of it! It's been my constant sense of longing since I first visited decades ago with my Dad. 

Now, I'm mindful that somehow Sarah's pulled off a perfect celebration of my life now, rather than later, and in all likelihood, this is my last time here, so I'm soaking everything I can in to carry me till the end.

Before any melancholy sets in, Che surprises us by entering and winning the 1st round of the Ship's Hula Hoop competition, and I'm cheering wildly. 

Living and longing. 

What am I longing for?

I don't know. 

Safety, security and comfort for Sarah and Che. I long for those things.  

I long for their happiness after I'm gone.  

I long to stay here, meaning I've never been on a trip to the Caribbean I was ready to end, and I'd just assume this cruise continue. 

Sarah's already thinking about home and work. Che's also ready to reconnect with her friends. We miss Lainey. 

But I'm not ready.  

I'm going to miss it, but I'm grateful as Hell I got to be here one more time.

This part of my Celebration is coming to a close, though I long for it to continue a bit longer, as I get to live into Summer again, warding off the evils to come, one day at a time. 

"Keep the party going," Jimmy Buffett allegedly said from his death bed.  

I raise this Pirates Punch to that. 

Yo Ho Ho. 

A Sailing Celebration (of Life)

 

Sliding into the unexpected warm salt water pool, I hear Che squeal in delight before I fully submerge. 

And for a second, maybe it was a thousand years, I float, safe, secure and happy, as others kick and splash above me.  

As soon as I break the surface to breath, Che body slams herself into mine, and we swim together laughingly.  

Sarah smiles sitting poolside watching. 

It's been a long couple of days getting here again, cruising away together, and we're as tired as Che is excited. 

Looking at Sarah just before I slide into the pool, I sigh, "Oh Che don't make me do this" because honestly it's the last thing I feel like doing. 

Sarah nods, I slide and Che squeals. 

The magic moment, floating there in a womb, ready for what's coming next and we spent the next hour swimming, hugging, splashing and laughing. 

It's an idyllic beginning.

Reality quickly reclaims it's throne as overly excited Che wants to do everything on the boat at once, while Sarah and I are ready for bed!

Two days later, we crash. 

It's hard to leave the room, though we manage several excursions, but are mostly content to watch the deep blue Caribbean Sea outside our cabin.  

My celebration of life now, rather than later, is going as beautifully as I could have imagined, squeezing every bit of love we can out of these moments. 

As far as "Celebrations of Life" goes, this one's kicking off just fine. 

                          ******

If you'd like to help part continue to it's end, just hit the link.  https://gofund.me/ffda4f4b

Not Forgetting How to Live

 

Sarah says I was hard enough to love before I got cancer but I'm far worse now. 

She laughs as she says it though the words convey the truth. 

Making it worse, she'll continue caring for me until I die, while planning a future for her and Che without me. 

Throw in the idea to celebrate my life while I'm still here with them, and killing a funeral for later on, it's up to Sarah to do all of the planning, which she does, and then has to drive us to the places we go. 

That's a lot of work. 

I hope it's worth it. 

Planning for our cruise, our cancer specialist calls for a quick review of how I'm doing. 

Sarah and I hold hands. 

It's a fun conversation. He asks about Che.  Delights in the cruise. Checks how Sarah's feeling about things.  

"It's refreshing how honest you are," Dr. Starr says. "People forget how to live when they're going through this."

Sarah and I nod. 

"Living well is the best revenge," he muses, stroking his beard and staring off for a few seconds. 

Arranging to call back soon, we congratulate each other and hang up. 

Sarah and I smile. 

Later, Lainey's dragging me for a walk (we call this exercise in our house), and Sarah texts me Dr. Starr's official report. 

"Michael has a good understanding of his current situation and is at peace with his current decision. He is living his best life and it is really refreshing from my standpoint."

I think I do have a clear understanding of things. 

Sarah, Che and I get to do it again!

That's all that matters.  

Living my best life while I'm dying.  

Just not yet. 

It's time to celebrate our life now!

Who care's about later?

                            ****

If you'd like to contribute some drinks and arcade money to the celebration, just follow this link. 

 https://gofund.me/ffda4f4b