The overmuch on Thursday

Today it's four months since Jody died. Four months. It's starting to seem really long. And yet, sitting here at my desk where I interacted with him for years, he seems just about as real as he ever did. Like he could pop up any second. Did I ever take that for granted? Sure I did. Right now, his uncle Jesse's on. A couple of my other friends are too. I'm not sitting here thinking they might be gone tomorrow. Or I might be. But I should have been different with Jody. I didn't know he was going to die, but I knew he could. And that he probably would, in a year or two.

You never know. You just never know.

Jody's dad, Jim, had his new tumor removed on Monday. It's malignant, and his doctor told him a year or two. That's about what they told Jody not quite a year ago now. Yeah, it's October. Jody's last "healthy" month. The last month with mornings in it he woke up and felt fine, thought he had a future. Come November, that was all gone. Well, now it's Jim. The doctors in the States are talking about radical surgery now for him, even though I don't think he currently has any other tumors. Cutting out muscle... it sounds pretty grisly. He's wondering if he wants to go through that, suspecting the outcome will be the same. Who can blame him for thinking that way? He's talking about seeking alternative treatments in Mexico. It's not that he's desperate; he seems to have accepted he's likely not going to live too much longer. But he's still open to exploring his options. I suppose, all things considered, that's the healthiest possible outlook a person in that situation could take. I couldn't. I'd be going nuts, blaming everyone, making bargains with God, the way I used to when I was a kid, coming home over the hill, praying I'd see my dad's truck in the driveway, knowing what kind of an evening we were in for if I didn't. Please, God, if he's home, I'll do this... I won't do that... I'll be good... please, God...

I finished catechism and had confirmation a year and a half ago... I guess my grown-up version of this. Jody got "well" right around the time I finished up, around Easter. I slacked off in the summer, and Jody's cancer came back. There's no connection. It's a coincidence. ...It is, right?

I love you, Jody. I always will. I hope there's a God, and I hope to Him you can hear this. I hope you know.