Advanced Lessons in Friendship
Today is January 5th, the birthdate of my friend Chris Carr, who passed away two years ago.
Chris’ birthday is an easy date for me to remember because January 5th is also the date my grandmother Nancy passed back in 1995. An unknowing neighbor left five black balloons on our family’s porch that day.
My grieving mother was bewildered when we discovered the unrequested and irksome gift. It turns out that a neighbor had celebrated an “over-the-hill” birthday and thought my little sister and I might enjoy the balloons.
It’s interesting, isn’t it? All of these dramas unfolding on the stage of life alongside one another. Births, deaths, and birthdays. Memories cherished and lessons learned.
I met Chris Carr on a Hodgkin’s Lymphoma forum when I was going through chemo in 2009. He had just had a stem cell transplant. Chris had stage 4 disease when it was caught, and he dealt with subsequent challenges long after my struggle with Hodgkin’s was over.
Chris and I had a brief exchange on his birthday in 2021. He had been recently diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.
Chris told me he didn’t have many “cancer friends” anymore, that he was scared, and that he could really use “an angel” like me to help him cope with it.
I was so wrapped up in my own stuff at the time.
For one thing, I fiercely guarded my marriage, keeping all people of the opposite sex at much more than an arm’s length distance.
I was also preoccupied with building my real estate business and being a good mom to my kids.
Not to mention, cancer still scared me. Men being scared of dying, scared me.
I didn’t think I could handle Chris’s feelings, and if we talked on the phone, I didn’t know what the right thing would be to say.
I cared, but from a distance. I said a few empathetic things. I suggested he find a good support group, noting how helpful that had been. It’s how we met, after all.
I don’t think Chris liked my response very much, as he reacted with an “angry” emoji. But I didn’t offer anything else. I didn’t feel I had anything to give or any responsibility to give it.
Eleven months later, I went through a major marital challenge and was shocked into a new understanding of people, life, and love.
I came to realize the mistake I had made. I didn’t have a perfect life to protect. I had a human life I was living by the grace of God, and another human being, a friend, had asked me to show I care about him.
It wasn’t that complicated of a request.
I sent Chris a message on his birthday on January 5, 2022. I asked him how he was doing. I gave him my phone number in case he wanted to talk.
He wrote back saying he was happy to hear from me, was getting chemo at the moment, and that we had a lot to catch up on. He also said he hoped his note found me well, healthy, and happy.
That was our last exchange. I’m grateful we had that, honestly.
Chris passed about a week later, on January 13, 2022.
He was 51 years old.
Months later, I contacted Chris’ mother, Cindy for the first time. She invited me to attend Chris’ memorial in Detroit that summer. I did, meeting friends and family I had heard about from Chris but never met.
There were a lot of tears but also a lot of love in the park that day.
Chris was a true warrior. He dealt with trial after trial but always seemed to keep a cheerful and friendly spirit about him.
He loved to travel and did quite a bit of driving and exploring across the US over the years despite recurring health setbacks.
He loved his dogs and Detroit, his hometown. He was a great brother to his sister and son to his mother.
He was a kind friend. I will not forget him.
I regret not having been more present for Chris during his final year, but I have forgiven myself and it felt like he had too.
The truth is, I am grateful for friendships forged in life’s difficult times.
These relationships remind me of the presence of GOOD in the world, especially when times seem the bleakest.
I am grateful for the lessons my friendship with Chris taught me, even after he had passed, with the sorrow I felt for the distance I had kept.
I learned that one can have boundaries without going cold.
I learned that I am bound to make mistakes but I can learn from my mistakes, understanding where I was mentally, emotionally, and spiritually when I made them.
I learned that I can forgive myself and others for being human.
I learned not to take the moments we have with each other on this earth for granted.
For this and for all the gifts of your life and friendship, thank you Chris Carr.
