I traveled to India in January of 2008. That trip changed my life. It not only gave me a broader worldview, it made me face truths and fears and it forced me to forge new relationships. It helped shape me into the person I am today. Compassionate. Empathetic. Judgement free. While many, many people contributed to making that trip spectacular for me, one man in particular deserves my thanks.
This man is Frank Stalfa. He was laid to rest yesterday in Lancaster, Pennsylvania and my heart is still breaking that I was unable to attend. This wise, gentle man that we referred to as our "fearless leader" showed me how to live. He taught me many things, but I think the most important and the one foremost in my heart today, is to find the moments of quiet joy in each day. His wife taught me to celebrate the simple act of living, one that Frank's teachings reinforced. The two of them are a model for living a grateful, joyous life.
Frank passed after a short, but brave battle against cancer. I've been largely avoiding social media as Jeff battles his cancer for a myriad of reasons. One, I am exhausted much of the time and just don't feel the energy at the end of the day for Facebook. Two, I am a chronic comparer. I think I made that word up. Here's what it means. I see the posts, the pictures, the food, the travels, the whatever my friends post and I compare where I am at and wallow in pity or self-loathing. As friends of mine work in professional sports, in important media positions, overseas, or even as high school teachers I think of how I am freelance writing and have no steady paycheck. As friends of mine post their beautiful babies I see the empty space in my arms where I can not put a child, because my body is not able to carry one. As friends post their homes....you get the idea.
So. I've been away long enough that I didn't even know Frank was ill. When he passed I sent an e-mail to my mother. When her reply came a few minutes later, I wept. I wept because I didn't get a chance to share with him what he taught me. I wept because I did not have the chance to offer words of encouragement to friends who were suffering in light of Frank's illness. And lastly, I wept because he touched my life and a beautiful soul left this earth.
Yesterday his funeral was on my mind. I ached to be in Pennsylvania, crying in my mother's arms at the loss of Frank. But with Jeff fighting an infection and cancer, it was not to be. As Jeff was sick I was responsible for taking Malcolm trick-or-treating. And I didn't want to. Because as I compare myself to others on Facebook, so do I do it in real life. And I felt vulnerable and weak, not able to handle public scrutiny or mingling with strangers. But Malcolm is 4 and he deserved to go, so I headed out into the night as Princess Mom with Malcolm as Black Spiderman. And somewhere between the fifth and tenth house, I felt light as air. I was smiling. I was interacting with people. I was happy. I was not comparing my size to other mothers. I was not comparing my living space to other's homes. I simply was. I was in the moment. With Malcolm and a gentle breeze ushering in the smell of fall and rain and leaves.
Frank's death has forced me to be grateful that Jeff has the chance to fight his cancer. That Jeff has a future to face. And that I get to be by his side through it. There are so many ugly moments during a cancer fight. So many heinous thoughts and emotions that remain hidden and eat away at you. Sometimes it is hard to be fully in the present as Jeff and I worry so much about the future. When he comes out of this our medical bills will set us back for years. When he comes out of this, we will worry that it still isn't over.
But last night, as I walked with Malcolm, Frank's message of joy and thanks filled me and I came home with a renewed sense of gratitude for the life I live.
I will miss Frank, but his teachings will never leave me. His teachings will live in the hearts and minds of those he touched near and far. Today, I will remember him. And the simple pleasure of finding a little bar in India to grab a cocktail and share conversation. And I will give thanks for all that I do have, rather than focusing on what I don't.
