I speak of love differently here than one might think. I do not mean that romantic love that many of us have experienced in our lives. But I do not mean a familial love either. The love that exists between me and this man is so very different than any love I have ever directly experienced. It is more like God's love. It is unconditional in that it can exist even after an argument, even after mean words are used, and even after death. It is a forever love, a love that knows no bounds, no limits, no endpoints. It is a love that exists throughout - not just in the daily interactions and conversations, but also in the silence. I refer to it as similar to God's love because I truly believe that the love that exists between me and this man is God's love personified. It is true love - love that is patient; love that is kind; love that is not self-seeking; love that keeps no record of wrongs (to quote Corinthians 4). It is a love that truly "always protects, always trust, always hopes, always perseveres." It is God's love personified. I have never meant that as surely and as seriously as I do now.
I have watched my friend near death multiple times - or at least what I interpreted as him nearing death. Each time was more painful than the time previous. I recall a time when he was in the hospice's inpatient unit sleeping. I sat down at the side of his bed, touched his arm, and let him know that it was me there beside him. He opened his eyes and began to cry. He widened his arms, calling for my embrace. As I hugged him, he cried and said, "I am so scared." I cried, too. And there was that time when he seriously said to me, "Will you be mad if I tell you I need to go to the hospital?" Our love is lined with vulnerability. This man taught me what it means to sit with suffering and embrace it. He has helped me to take hold of my own pain and acknowledge it and feel it.
I love this man so much that it does hurt. It hurts to watch him panic when he becomes very short of breath. It pains me to see him angry that he cannot do simple tasks for himself, and then forces himself to surrender to be helping him. It causes grief in me to see him unable to paint anymore because his hands tremble from the toxins his failing liver is releasing into his blood stream. And yet, I sit there each and every day. I do not run. I cannot run.
A few weeks ago, I listened as the hospice doctor told my friend they were going to try a different medicine to lessen his hand tremors. He had been on this medicine before and his body had acted against the medication. This was the time in which he told me he was scared he was near the end. As I listened to the doctor, I shook my head thinking to myself, "Are you crazy? This will kill him!" Once the doctor had left, I approached the nurse, a dear friend of mine who watches out for me and always checks in to see how I am doing. I asked her if there were any other options, reminding her of what happened the last time my friend took this medicine. She looked me in the eye and said, "He wants to paint. This is the only thing we can do to help him achieve that. This is what it's about, Britt."
I shed a tear as I allowed her words to sank in. This is what it's about. It's about quality of life. My friend will die one day. I know this. Why is it that I am constantly trying to hold on and save him from that imminent future? He reminded me, himself, two weeks ago that there was nothing left to save him as he cried out to me, "What are you going to do now? What's going to fix it now? There is nothing! Why do we keep trying?"
Love is not self-seeking. It does not do harm to others. As I watch my friend die slowly, I am reminded of this, thanks to the many wonderful people who are around me and have supported me these past seven months. I am reminded that a love that lasts through death can never die again. Our love shall endure, even without both of us physically present. That doesn't mean that it will not hurt...and that simple statement does not ease the pain. But it reminds me of my grandfather and my Uncle Sammy who are with God now. It reminds me of their love for not only me, but my family. It allows me to recognize how that love has endured and surely the love that exists between me and my friend can never die again.
