I just found out today that a dear friend of mine, Michael, who's in his late forties and lives only a couple miles from me, is dying of cancer. I'd known that he's been sick with cancer, and it was brought home to me when I saw him in mid-June. But he was so very hopeful about the treatments working!
Michael is a public school teacher because he loves the kids; he can no longer teach. He and his lovely wife, Ginger, cried and cried over that terrible realization. He's got a gift for storytelling, and has regaled friends and family with stories ever since he was trained as a child. He knows more than 600 stories, and has created some of his own stories and songs. He has a marvelous wit and a great sense of humor; the world will be poorer when he leaves it.
At this point, the cancer has spread to his brain. With radiation therapy, he might have a longer life. Without it, he's expected to have 2-5 months. He's too sick to have visitors or even to answer email. But he's okay with getting cards. So I'll be writing a long letter to him, complete with silly illustrations and a limerick or two.
If you can spare any good thoughts for this wonderful man, it would be greatly appreciated.
