What are we waiting for?

What are we waiting for?

Last Tuesday, my brother-in-law, Bob, had me laughing hysterically.

To be honest, it wasn't hysterical laughter, but I laughed a real lot and every time that I thought about what he said, I was amused again. That's why I wrote hysterical; I didn't know the word to use for what I experienced.

I had told him that my mother had just been diagnosed with uterine cancer. So, the air was a bit tense. Bob was compassionate and said he would keep her in his prayers.

(And, so far, so good; mom is doing well but your continued prayers could not hurt.)

Then, after some time, Bob started to muse upon the idea of hearing that he might have a fatal disease.

Bob said, quietly, almost as though he was thinking aloud, "What a relief that would be."

I didn't say anything. (I find that if I let there be space, amazing things happen.)

As potential positive benefits became clear to him, Bob got more and more animated. He verbalized a mock phone-call with his doctor, "Really, Doctor, I have only a year to live? Wonderful, that's just wonderful. Thank you." He hung up the pretend phone, sighed, looked relaxed in the shoulders, and a sense of content glowed about him.

"If I only had a year to live," Bob exclaimed, "I wouldn't be so f*cking worried about things. I'd enjoy my meals, I wouldn't rush, I'd take it all in with simplicity and grace."

"If I only had a year to live, I could finally just relax and really start living."

Funny how thinking we're going to live forever might take some of the joy out of living.

The truth is, of course, none of us know if this is our last year, last month, or last week on earth. Perhaps we should all seize the day. . . if only for a week.

With love,

Rabbi Brian