You matter to me

Last Monday didn't start the same way as most of my Mondays do. I carried a large poster board with writing all over it - words that would touch the heart of anyone who read them.  I walked down a quiet hallway in a place for people waiting to leave this earth the name of the place was Solace, a hospice center  in Asheville, NC.

Bob Scroggs was a wonderful man, a senior member of life and of our church. Bob was the kind of  man who hugged you and made you feel welcome every Sunday. He was diagnosed with lung cancer earlier in the  year and was in the final stages of it last week. I wanted to visit Bob during his battle with cancer but I was in the thick of another fight with friend who was battling cancer, and I had not seen him yet. In the final weeks of Bob's life I knew I needed to see him but I lost my dear friend Cindy only four short weeks earlier and wasn't sure I could actually visit Bob with the memories of her death so fresh in my mind.  I wasn't sure I would be able to say goodbye again so soon. 

Sitting in church they announced that it would be only days before Bob would die and played a video where he spoke about volunteering in the children's ministry at church. For several years, Bob and his wife would bring two boys from their neighborhood whose mother worked second shift and couldn't take them. They would make sure these boys were able to attend church, youth nights, retreats and youth activities outside of church. As the video clip ran it felt as though Cindy was saying to me "you have to see him and tell him, Its so important." 

As Cindy began to realize she could lose her battle with cancer she would often say to me "I hope I have made an impact on people. I hope that people will think I made a difference, that my life mattered." I loved those moments because I could tell her over and over how much she meant to me and how much she mattered in my life. I knew this was a precious gift to tell someone they matter and that their life made a difference. I realized after her death that cancer was really a gift for her and I. In spite of the thief it felt like -- I was given and opportunity to say and do things  as we knew how precious those moments would be as they were fewer and fewer with each passing day. 

Bob needed to know that although our moments together in his life were brief and we knew very little else of each other but a kind word and a warm hug, he made a difference to me and his life mattered. I was able to ask our youth group to do a poster to him and write the kind words a man would want to hear in his final days and they did a fabulous job. They wrote things to him that would help him know what a difference his life made. They took a photo of everyone and several of the youth held up the letters spelling out "We love you". I picked it up Sunday night and worried that perhaps I should go that night worried he wouldn't make it. I asked my pastor if he thought the idea was ok to do he said that I may be turned away due to Bob's grave condition only family and clergy would be allowed in his room in these final days. However,I knew if this was a divine assignment every thing would fall into place.  

I was so anxious to get to Bob Monday morning, as death and regret often go together. I was worried about getting there in time, being able to see him and perhaps being able to share with him how he mattered to me.  I asked the front desk where I would find his room, I found his lovely wife there in his room with Bob, and the door wide open. Through my tear filled eyes I asked if it would be ok to share these thoughts on the board from the youth and a few of my own. She was very kind and very appreciative. Bob looked frail but eyes wide open he seemed to recognize me as someone he knew. I couldn't be sure he knew me but his wife reminded him of my children who they were and she introduced me again. Due to the cancer he couldn't talk much but he was there and he was listening. I leaned down close to his ear and read the words from the board. "Thank you for your constant encouragement and dedication to spreading the gospel" wrote one youth. "You mean the world to me", "You have changed so many lives". One kind sentence after another and they all had something about how much he meant to them. 

I left the script on the board and took a few minutes to tell him about how much he meant to me. I told him that although our moments were few they were important. He mattered to me and his life has made a significant difference and he will be missed by so many but also by me. I tried not to cry but I can't help but wonder as he would mouth the words "thank you" over and over again did he know and believe he made a difference? I hope so because he did and I was given such an incredible gift being able to say that to him before he left this earth. 

I saw his wife on Sunday she said he closed his eyes that afternoon and never opened them again. He passed a few days later. She said I arrived in time- I have to believe it was a divine appointment, a gift for one that blessed another.