How to be a good man.

Recently I went to my Dad’s best friend’s funeral and it got me thinking.   I wasn’t sitting there thinking away about my MS, or about dying, or about those around me dying. What I was sitting there thinking about was ‘Choice’.  Not as in ‘choice moves bro’.  But as I listened to his family and friends pay  their respects and remember him, I was struck by how he had chosen to do everything he did in life.  Mostly it was how he chose to face life, to always have a kind word, a helping hand and a smile.  Oh,  and most importantly a vest ( sorry inside joke ).

He had chosen to marry, and had chosen to have three fantastic kids.  Chosen to be an awesome Grandad.  I could see this in the eyes of those around me.  Eyes filled to overflowing with grief, with gratitude, and most importantly, with love.

Some of the choices he made must have been very tough.  To change careers and become a school teacher for example.  Choosing to take a young family to Pakistan to work in the Mission Field must have been exceptionally challenging.  And yet it was a path he chose to walk.  To the best of my knowledge he never had any major health issues to face over the years and I am truly glad for that.

He was honoured when we chose him to marry us and to oversee our son’s naming ceremony,  and we were honoured to have him officiate at both.

These Blogs are about how I live with MS.  It is not an easy road to walk,  but as I learnt yesterday, it is all about how I choose to live.

Earlier today I was reading a post about a well dressed young man getting on a bus and not having enough money to pay for his fare.  When the female bus driver insisted he had to pay (she was only doing her job), he started abusing her.  No-one on the bus did anything. The story appalled me and really bought home the importance of being a good man.  Why did no-one offer to pay? Why did no-one stand up to him?  And what on earth made the guy chose to be like that?

To me, my Dad’s friend’s legacy won’t be the trademark vest, beard and glasses,  or his friendship with my Dad.  No, as I sat at his funeral I realised that in his passing he was teaching me the greatest lesson – my life is not just about how I choose the way I live with MS but it is about how I choose to live as a good man.

Written 06/02/16

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