Not stars

Rain and dreary skies, but preparations have begun for Portland Winter Light Festival. The theme this year is “The Light of Stars,” a visual expression of impermanence. I was in good spirits when I saw this tissue of lights downtown, as my daughter in Houston had a successful medical procedure this morning, and my neighbor in hospital will be moved to a nursing facility tomorrow. I was aware of impermanence and at peace with it, not daunted by it.

But this evening a close friend, one of the core members of Portland Buddhist Peace Fellowship and a stalwart among the volunteers for JoAnn Hardesty’s campaign, called from a hospital to say that the pain he has had in his back for the past year and half has now been identified as renal cancer. It was unrecognized for so long that the tumor is very large, affecting his diaphragm and his stomach. His wife is with him, and his two adult children are both here and supporting their parents. 

It’s easy to be at peace with impermanence when all is well, but it’s another thing entirely to face the near possibility of losing a close friend and comrade.

He is a quiet, gentle man in his early 60s with no discernible ego, willing to take jobs no one else wants, willing to serve, to donate, to do whatever is needed. He almost makes himself invisible, seems not even to realize that his work is key to all we do. He asked to be included in our meditations. I wrote to our mutual friends to let them know what’s happening, and we are all holding him and his family in our hearts and minds.