Last night, Christmas Eve, I received a phone call from
clear across the country. It was from Frank’s best boyhood friend. Frank, most
of you know, was my live-in “nephew,” almost like my own son. He passed away
almost 3 years ago and I do still miss him.
I remembered this fellow who called. In fact, at first I was
concerned because when Frank passed away, I phoned this fellow and he wasn’t
home, so I had to leave the message about Frank’s death as a voice mail
message. Last night, I was afraid he never got the message and I’d have to
deliver bad news 3 years after the fact.
There wasn’t any need for me to worry, as it turned out. He
did get that message. But he got a sudden urge to check on me. I had known this
young man (well, young to me – he’s almost 60) since he and Frank were boyhood
chums, at least from 10 years old and up. Turns out he was calling just to say
Merry Christmas and to make sure I was all right and still at the same phone
number.
We spent the next half hour reminiscing. Instead of us
getting all sad and morose, we seemed to unconsciously feel the need to chat
about the happy memories. We talked about Frank’s hilarious dry sense of humor
and how interested he was in people of all cultures. It was a very good
conversation and I’m happy that I was at home when it came.
When I titled this post, I almost wrote that it was “bittersweet”
because Frank was gone. But in fact, it was really very uplifting.
Father, please bless this boy because of his compassionate
call. He had no obligation at all to call me and it was an unexpected kindness.
Please pour out upon this man and his loved ones unexpected kindnesses in their
lives in return.
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