Sam
Mood:  hug me
Now Playing: Patty Griffin - Goodbye
Topic: Stuff That Happens To Me

 

Sam died on Monday.

He was 45. Most folks with Cystic Fibrosis don't live past their 30's, so at least in that respect I consider him pretty fortunate.

Sam didn't always see things that way. I guess it's because, while we might compare Sam's life to that of the vast majority of CF patients and count him as blessed, we could just as easily compare him to the rest of the North American population, who live on average into their 70's, and say he was just screwed.

He was burdened by his past. He never went into specifics, but I couldn't imagine that he'd done anything worse than I ever did. Sam had a lot of anxiety about the future. He knew he would never get any better, never marry, never have kids.

I tried to encourage him. I told him that God didn't require the past of us; He only requires the present, this day, this hour. And He doesn't promise us the future, but He does promise us His grace. I know those seem like small things, but they're not. It's everything we are, and everything He has.

I don't know if I did any good, or if Sam ever heard me, but I know I wasn't the best friend I could have been. At least I wasn't the friend he needed me to be.

Sam's friends got together to eulogize him on Saturday, and a lot of them talked about his bravery and how they never heard him complain. I don't think it insults his memory, or lessens the impact of his death, to say that that wasn't the Sam I knew, and acknowledge that he was flawed. In the end, I was happy to know that he had so much love and support from so many who were better than I was.