I had a strong desire, compulsion almost, for Max and I to eat at one of our favorite restaurants, Ireland’s 4 Provinces. It was the last place that Jeff had eaten dinner out with us back in February with Valerie and Jeff W. We used to go there far more frequently than we should have, but it was always an inviting place.
From afar, we watched as a wedding party continued their post-reception celebration. As we were on our last course, Travis the manager on duty stopped by the table. We first met him about four years ago when he was waiting tables. At first, he was without a name to us, but we knew him by the spider tattoo on his arm. He was always pleasant. I felt compelled to explain why Jeff wasn’t with us. Tears leapt to my eyes. I don’t like to cry in front of others. Travis sat on the edge of the booth seat as I said that Jeff had had cancer, and told us that he had been diagnosed this spring with a form of leukemia. He also named quite a list of others from the restaurant—staff and regulars—who were fighting and had fought cancer.
Travis is undergoing treatment that will continue throughout his life. His doctor, who had been Jeff’s oncologist, says that if one wanted a cancer this is the one to have because it is very treatable. Wryly, Travis said he really didn’t want one, thanks anyway.
My guilty feelings for an unnecessary extravagance turned into thankfulness for being able to share a moment and concern with a fellow traveler. I asked if Travis minded being added to a prayer list. He said that it’s okay, so I ask for prayers for Travis, of the spider tattoo, for healing but also for strength and even joy in the midst of the journey.
Romans 12:15
Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.
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