Change in Perspective

The mom of one of the kids whom I tutor has asked me over for dinner a couple times. Between those times, and the times that she has dropped off and picked up her son at our house, I have become friends with her. We're not close friends yet; we're at the beginning stages of our friendship where she's learning a lot about me, and I of her. She is an excellent cook, and has an excellent kitchen, which provides the perfect backdrop for getting to know each other. Both times I was over for dinner, I sat at the counter in her kitchen for 3 or more hours just talking and eating. As it should be.

About a month ago, as she dropped her son off for a tutoring session, the boy said, "My dad has an owie." The mom nodded her head and explained to me that he had some intestinal issues and they were being cleared up with some antibiotics. The words for his condition and symptoms were flying over her son's head and swirling in my brain while he dug in our flower bed for slugs and other creatures.

Fast forward to last week when I was invited over for dinner again. As I watched my friend shake pans on the stove, marinate meat for the grill, and shake drinks for her friends, she told me that her husband was in the hospital. She swatted the air and said, "Yeah, it's more of the stuff he had before, but now they found a mass of infection and they need to do surgery after giving him a course of some major antibiotics." She seemed fine with it, and he didn't want her at the hospital. It seemed pretty routine to me at the time.

I should've known better. Rarely is the word "mass" ever good, except if you're Catholic and the mass miraculously lasts less than 45 minutes. I emailed my friend last week after the dinner to thank her and check in on her husband. I never heard back from her, which is very unlike her. Today I casually called her, and asked how he was doing. "Well," she sighed, "When they did the surgery to remove the mass, they realized that it was cancer." Her voice went up an octave with the last word.

I offered my sympathies, my prayers, my good thoughts. I told her to please call me if she needed anything. I said all of the things that I'm sure she heard countless other people say already. I wanted to stay on the phone to help, while at the same time wanting to get off so badly to avoid the uncomfortable situation altogether.

Out the window went the pity party I was having for myself last night and this morning. Out the window went pressure I was feeling during this summer school program. Out the window went all of the small stuff I had been stressing about. Does it really matter if I get my toenails painted before this weekend? Does it really matter if my house isn't clean? Doesn it really matter if fix the iTunes issue today?

No, no, and no. What really matters is people. And friendships. And family. And laughter. And love.