A dear cousin of mine died this morning a little after 2:00.  He had been battling cancer for years, first throat and then lung.  He hasn't been able to swallow for several years and took all nourishment and liquid through a tube into his stomach.  But I never heard him complain.  He was a remarkable fighter.  It was a tough price to pay for years of heavy smoking, but he paid it without grumbling.  How many of us can say the same about our shortcomings and the consequences thereof?

How do I describe him?  It is interesting that this happened while I have been talking about recovering alcoholics.  Just this morning, I posted this note:

 

I have known recovering addicts who have fully worked the steps and they are some of the most emotionally and spiritually strong people I know. Those I have known have been honest, forgiving, and loving.

 

That was Max.  He's been sober for over 50 years.  If anyone was in trouble, he was the first one there.  He never said, "Call me if you need something."  He was there at your side saying, "What do you need and I'll do it."  He had an open wallet, and open hand, and an open heart.

 

Max was just 3 when his father died in a car accident.  My mother remembered how hard it was for him to understand when he was such a little boy.  He wandered around my Grandma Lou's house looking for someone to talk or play or do something besides cry and tell him to "shush!"  Perhaps that is why he began drinking.  I guess we'll never know.  It certainly doesn't matter now.

 

My thoughts and prayers are with his wife and children and grandchildren.  I can feel their loss. 

 

And Max, I love and respect you more than you could ever know in this life.  I'm glad you are finally meeting that dad you never knew and reuniting with your mother and mine.  Tell them all hello for me and go with God until we meet again.