Dear Tom:
Sometimes when I am telling someone about my surgery and the miracle of my being here an emotion comes over me that isn’t what I think it should be. I feel a rush of something like sadness, almost like shame. I have been lucky, and the pleasure I might have taken in what happened to me is all but lost in the realization that nothing comparable had happened to the person I was telling, at least as far as I knew. I felt I needed to do something to make it up to him, but I had no idea how or what to say. So I end up saying nothing.
In the last few days, my thoughts have turned to these chance encounters where those emotions take over my conversation. Perhaps, after thought, I am gaining an understanding of the old saying — there can be no real joy for anybody until there is joy finally for us all. I am acutely aware that my miracle was made possible by another family’s tragedy. So perhaps that is where the sadness creeps into the joy of my tale. What is clear is that all our lives are all connected, and closer than even the six degrees of separation. So we owe it to each other to “have each other’s back.”
So I still wrestle with the sadness, but I understand there is purpose behind my emotions. God’s purpose, yet revealed, but a little clearer everyday.
Your Friend, Webb
Remember that “George” lives on in you!
Will never forget it.