Sometimes you want to write about something for a long time, but every time you try words fail you.
Such has been the case for me over the last while when I've tried to come up with the right words to talk about my friendship with my neighbor, Ralph.
We’re 50 years apart, he and I, and the dearest of friends.
He is dying of bone cancer, and I’ve been swimming in tears this last week.
Tears of sorrow, yes, but also tears of gratitude, for they reflect the richness of the friendship that exists between us.
As I said to him earlier this week:
How does one adequately express appreciation for a friendship that has meant so much?
You can’t; all you can do is take a stab at it.
This man has been a beloved grandpa to my kids and like another father to me. We have laughed hard together, cried together, sworn together, shared calories together, gone to church together, talked about life and death and love and gardening and faith and poetry and books and ideas and our families. We've had a lot of good times.
He has taught me so much by his example.
He has encouraged, listened, blessed, understood, taught, cared, taken the time for, loved, and served me and my kids again and again and again in the most kind and thoughtful ways.
I appreciate him more than I can say and I will dearly miss him.
How do you tell somebody what a difference they’ve made in your life?
Once in a while God blesses you with a friendship that forever changes you.
Dear Ralph, I love you so.
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