It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.....Oh, wait, that's been done before! How about, it was the worst of times, it was the worst of times? I kind of feel like that has been my story this week. My heart is aching for two men today. One I love because I have known him all my life and I have loved him all my life, and I will love him all my life. There is nothing unlovable about him, really. The other I love because God loves him, I choose to love him, but it is hard. I kinda understand where he is coming from, and I see how his attitude affects his life, and I wish I could help him, but I don't find much lovable about him.
The two men have, ironically, led similar lives. They are about the same age. They are about the same socioeconomic class. They have about the same education. In many ways, they could be brothers. They have both endured big hurts. They both have divorced parents. Both have been married, but neither are now. Neither has children. And right now, they are both struggling with their health. But, they are completely different in their outlooks on life. One has a "Yes, let's!" attitude and the other a "poor me" attitude.
The one is my brother. He had a skin cancer removed almost two years ago, and last winter we got word that it had metastasized. He decided he did not want to go through chemotherapy or radiation. I have been living rather happily in denial, thinking that perhaps the doctor was wrong. From what I had heard throughout the summer, he had been doing okay. I got word today that he is not doing okay. But he is not one to complain. He doesn't want everyone to know he hurts, so he doesn't make a big deal about it. He doesn't want people around him to be sad. He calls things as he sees them, but there is nothing at all malicious about him. And when hard things come, the loss of a job or a grave diagnosis, he has a way of rolling with it. Maybe he worries on the inside, but I never see it.
Yesterday I got a call from a man I have known for a couple of decades. I met him through work. In all the time i have known him, he has never been short of a story about how someone has wronged him. He is always the victim. Nothing is ever his fault. There is very little he finds joy in. He was calling me from the new "resort" in town, Riverbend. Apparently, he pulled out in front of a van doing 45 mph. Hit him right in the driver's side door. Broke about everything on his left side, as you can imagine. He sounded lower than low when he called. Like Eeyore on depressants. But he will get better.
What a contrast in outlooks. What a contrast in my opinion of each. One I want to take his pain on myself so that he won't have to suffer so much. The other I want to slap across the face and say, "Buck up, everyone has it hard!"
I'm sure to God, they are just different types of soil. One needs more sand, the other more humus. I guess I just prefer the one to the other...probably something in my genes.
I wish I knew the end of the story. It will be interesting reading for sure. No lesson today, just observations, and a sad heart.
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