An Amazing Man

This is Bobaloo. I met him when I went to Kona to do my DTS. He would give me a hug every time I went through the line in the kitchen and he'd tell me "God is so good". After my time in Kona wrapped up, we wrote letters and e-mailed each other, and once again, he always ended the letters with "God is so good." Saying that is one thing, but Bob is a person who really believes it. I can't even remember how many pounds of tumors he has had removed from his body, and just recently, I learned that when he went in to have another one removed, they found cancer. It's all over him, especially in his lungs, and they believe it's too advanced to treat. I'm told in a few weeks, he will be gone. It's bittersweet news. He has had so much pain from all these tumors in his life, and other problems with his ankles as well, yet of all the people I have ever met in my life, he is the happiest. I honestly don't know of anyone with more joy than him, or more faith. In Kona, I remember when I was talking with him, my mind would often be not on the conversation, but rather I'd be staring at him in awe, wondering how in the world he managed to be so happy and believe so strongly that "God is good." So many times, I wished that I believed as strongly as he did, and that I could figure out how to have as much joy as he does. I still don't have a clue, but today I gave Bobaloo call. This is the first time we have actually spoken since I left Kona. It has always been e-mails or letters. Anyway, leave it to him. I asked "So, how are you doing?" And his immediate reply was "Good!" He hasn't changed a bit. I asked if he was in pain and he said he hurts a lot, but he still laughed just like he always used to when I told him that I was looking at a photo of him. We only talked for a couple minutes, and much of it was simply silence, but I'm glad I called.

When I was 19, my friend, Mike, died of cancer. I'm sad to say that I never visited him while he was sick, and I never called him. I wrote him a letter or two, but that was it. Mostly, I stayed away. I think that I just didn't believe he would die. We were so young, and picturing him so sick just didn't fit in my mind. I just knew he would get better and we'd see each other again and everything would go back to normal, but it never did. He passed just days before his 21st birthday. I'm sure he knew I cared, but looking back, it saddens me that I never faced it - faced him. And if I could do it over again, I would go visit and sit beside his bed, even if we couldn't talk, and even if all I did was cry next to him or sit awkwardly in silence. I'm sad that I will never get another chance with Mike. After experiencing that, I promised myself that I would never again stay away, that I would never be afraid to touch someone, and that I would never be afraid to reach out, even if my reach is shaky, akward, and small .