Fading Memories: Remember the Good Ones (repost)

I sat yesterday with my brother, Mike, in a hospital room 4 floors up.  He's wasn't/isn't doing really well.  He was awake most of the time, but not very alert.  I would say he is in a half awake dreamy state, not brought on by the pain medications, but probably a combination of the various chemos, malnutrition and a bladder infection.  Either way, right now, he's only mentally here for brief periods of time.  He seems to be fading in and out of conversations and events that have occurred over the last 37 years of his life. 

It's gut wrenching to see him like this.  And the words "gut wrenching" don't do the hurt justice.  Words don't exist that could express it.  At first, before I really realized that the conversations he was having weren't about where we were at that moment, I was trying to explain where he was, what was going on.  Heather, his Sister-in-Law, gently told me not to try to reorient him.  I honestly didn't know what that meant, but then I was able to bring that down to my 8 year old level and realize it meant.  "Play along"
So I spent the rest of the afternoon...playing along.

At one point he seemed to be getting in on a basketball match...asked if they needed one more.  I just told him..."Yeah, come on man."

Another point he was talking about a football game and said, "Man, I feel sorry for whoever's team I'm on."   I just laughed a bit, and played along.  I said, "Well, you know, they don't want ME on their team either...I never could catch the ball."
His eyes widened, and he nodded and with his raspy voice said, "That's the truth." 

I just started laughing...crying.  Not crying from laughing so hard, but laughing because I couldn't cry hard.  But wherever he was in his head at that moment.  He knew this.  Jason couldn't catch the ball. 

15 years ago, Mike and several of his friends would get together with me and several of my friends and we would go camping at Ft. Clinch.  Playing capture the flag, football...everything.  I remember one year playing flag football, and the other team basically not even covering me.   They knew I wouldn't catch the ball.  But Mike.  He kept throwing it to me.  I think I caught one...to everyone's amazement.  But I dropped a dozen or more others.  He just kept throwing. 

I mess up so much in my life.  So many regrets.  So many things I wish I could get right, but so many things I just seem to do wrong.  So many snide comments, or greedy wants.  So many places where I just don't allow myself to be content.  But our heavenly Father keeps throwing me the ball.  Sometimes I catch it.  Sometimes I get distracted and miss.  But for some reason he keeps throwing it my way. 

So Mike's still playing football in his head, but in a hospital bed tied to tubes and bags.  So I lead him on a little bit while I "play along."  I wanted him to know something.  I just said, "You know, I would have been picked last in every game if it weren't for you picking me up.  Thanks bro."

His eyes widened, and he nodded again and said, "That's the truth."  And then he closed his eyes and moved on to another memory. 

Comments

[David M. Privette]

Dear Jason, Mike and family,

I am so sorry for what is now going in your family and to Mike. I cannot imagine and will not act like I can understand what you all are feeling and experiencing at this time. What you wrote was beautiful and from the heart. Thank you for allowing us to feel and read these emotions. I know that sports seem so meaningless and small right now but I have to say much of my interaction and friendship with Mike came from playing sports with him.

There is one particular play that I can remember to this day like it happened yesterday. It was a Wednesday night football game before youth group started at Terry Parker Baptist. I was a young youth, 7th or 8th grade and I was on the team facing Mike. On a kickoff I was able to "juke" out Mike and run onto a touchdown. Now that would probably be the end of that story except for what I heard running back down field for the next kickoff. Mike was talking to his teammates and said "He got me on that one". I will never forget that. I would never admit it at that time cause I was so rough and tough with a horrible attitude, but that was big. Mike was the pinnacle and one of the best that we played against as a youth group. No matter if it was basketball, football or softball, if you could beat or get the best of Mike you had done something. I really felt I had done something and the fact that he gave me the props for doing it meant even more.

I love sports and I know Mike does too. We all spent a lot of time playing together. It was are time of fellowship. I'm sorry for using that as my memory but I say this with complete sincerity, I can remember that like it was yesterday and I still get that feeling of accomplishment. I pray for healing and peace for Mike and your family. I love you all and thank you all for letting me share this memory.

Love,
David M. Privette