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1 Comment

  1. John Greenman on March 29, 2015 at 17:48

    My friend was dying, and I was like an unhinged door floating on a flood of despair. Although I hadn’t seen him in several years after I’d moved to a different part of the country, I still counted on the example of his steadfast faith, his modesty, his gentle way of living. Now, he was gone, and my life felt broken, rudderless, hopeless. Then, word came that medical measures had succeeded, and he was still alive, though impaired, and coming home. The shock was considerable. Suddenly, despair was no longer appropriate, but relief wasn’t my first emotion. Instead, I was confused. I had been immersed in grief, but now I was stunned! How could he be back? If he was not dead, where had he been? Why had I troubled myself with mourning? I had been fooled, whiplashed between hopelessness and relief without anyone’s meaning it to happen. It had all happened so quickly, so decisively, that I was overwhelmed, unable to catch up.

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