A Cup of Joe

Our Friend:  Joe

For those of you who live near near me, you've probably heard me talk about my friend Joe McCombs.  Joe is a very special friend.  At 93, he is my oldest and dearest friend.  For the past two years, Sunday morning breakfast has been filled with Joe.  We pick him up at his home and usually my father-in-law, Bobby, and my wife, Kim join Joe at our breakfast hangout, Dove Creek Cafe.

It's been a tradition to hang out with Joe on Sunday mornings.  He thinks that we are doing something special for him but in reality he brightens up our lives with his cheer, sparkling eyes, singing, stories, and laughter.  Joe is a poster child of what good living ought to be.  He gives us back more than what we could ever possibly give him.

Several days shy of his birthday at the end of last month, Joe slipped and fell down some stairs at his son's house.  He underwent surgery to repair a slightly fractured hip, now he is in a great deal of pain and convalescing very slowly in a nursing home.  We hurt for Joe and none of us is ready for life without a decent cup of Joe.

In my heart, I hope that Joe is not planning on leaving us.  My thoughts are purely selfish because I think my life would be bland without his smile.  If he's ready to leave,  then I will have to resign myself to the fact that he just might be ready to join his departed wife and wants to rest eternally in her company.

Love is important.  Telling those around us that we love them is one thing.  Making them feel loved is truly harder and requires time.  In the short time I've known Joe, he has made us all feel loved.  I hope that he feels the same in return as we visit him in the nursing home.  

Selfishly, I want to believe that Joe will join us for breakfast again at Dove Creek.  I want to watch Joe smile as he receives his weekly hug from Beverly.  It always seems that Joe doesn't want to let go of her.  Maybe Joe wont want to let go of us.  We are not ready quite yet.