I had a decision to make.
Stay in St. Louis for my niece’s graduation last week and risk a hospital stay or come home early and head for the ER.
I opted for the latter.
Somehow, I injured my “bad” foot while tossing the football around in the backyard with my nephews. And I had another unrelated health issue that required medical attention. Being stuck in a hospital four hundred miles from home when you aren’t sure your insurance will cover any of it didn’t feel like the right choice, so I limped to my car and made the long trek home.
The jury is still out on both health concerns. I’m following up with multiple doctors and am having more scans done than Google performs at its top-secret headquarters in a day. Okay, probably not that many, but you get the idea.
“Lee, you’re falling apart!” a friend texted when I told her the news.
“Next stop … nursing home,” I responded.
“Nooo! You’re too young.”
“You can come and see me. We will talk about the old days.”
The exchange brought a smile to my face. I’ve often thought I want all of my closest friends to choose the same nursing home so we can hang out in the commons area, playing games and telling old stories while trying to figure out how to use our iPhone 24. Our health might be failing at that point, but we’ll help each other get to the finish line.
As I write this, I’m thinking about the steak dinner I enjoyed last night with three friends, one of whom – an 87-year-old man who just lost his wife – stayed at the restaurant with me until 10:15 p.m., talking about his struggles with technology, our health issues, and the Christian life.
He’s one of maybe eight people I feel deeply connected to. I have no idea how I’ve become close to so many people. I’m socially awkward, shy and introverted. But somehow, I’ve stumbled across my tribe, consisting of men and women who really care about me. They check on me, day and night. And that feels amazing.
Proverbs 27:9 (KJV) says, “Ointment and perfume rejoice the heart: so doth the sweetness of a man’s friend by hearty counsel.” And Ecclesiastes 4:9-10 says, “Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour. For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up.”
We need each other. We really do.
As I glance at my calendar for the week, I see that one of my friends lost his aunt a year ago this week. I’ll reach out to him on that date. Another friend lost his mother four years ago this week. I’ll call him too.
Neither guy is a “date” or “anniversary” person, but it’s my way of showing I remember what and who matters to them. I hope that makes a difference to them, making them feel a deeper sense of connection with me.
I left the restaurant with my buddy feeling at peace. Not because I have false hope for the future here on earth, but because I know people genuinely care about me. We’re all just passing through, but doing it arm in arm is so much better than trying to fly solo.
