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Some days ago, I was reading a book when a friend called me up via Skype.

My friend is a Canadian, He's a forty-five years old man with German roots from his grandparents. I know, he misses Germany because he hadn't been here for many years. He has still relatives in Germany. He told me to come in the next spring when Germany is more beautiful than in other seasons of the year.

My friend is a musician and poet. He writes and composes the own songs. Playing the guitar and singing is his life.
Sometimes he plays for me one of his songs when we speak on Skype.

Being a musician isn't his only profession. He also works for the Canadian judiciary.
Sometimes he needs an out-time from working, then he plays guitar and sings on the streets.

He speaks different languages, loves cats and dogs and animals in general, but he hasn't much trust in humans.

He is, what we call a lone wolf.

Sometimes he drinks a little too much alcohol and then he doesn't realize what he says. I can deal with his moods because I can look behind his facade of self-protect. He always pretends independence, says, he can deal with his loneliness, but I don't believe him. No one loves being alone at his age.

Let me tell you why he called me that day.

 "Hey, I sent you a postcard and a nice picture calendar that shows you Canada's beautiful nature. The nice lady at the post office told me it would take about ten days until you get it", said my friend.
"What a nice idea! A postcard!", I replied.
The majority of the people doesn't write postcards anymore. My opinion is that writing postcards and letters are more personal than the exchange of messages in social networks.
"It's not a normal picture-postcard," continued my friend.
"That postcard is a photo from me. I took it as a postcard,  wrote your address on it, and added some personal words for you."
His voice fell silent for some seconds.
Then he continued "I have to tell you something."

 I thought, he plans to come to Germany and asked, "Wanna come to Germany?".
"I would come right away if I could," he said, "but I am afraid I will not travel anymore."
"What is happened?", I curiously asked.

"I will die," he said.

"What? Are you kidding me?", I replied. "Telling me about dying isn't a joke."
"I know," he replied. "I am not kidding you. I am serious. It's the cruel truth. I went to a doctor because a pain in my back was torturing me. He made some examinations and told me I have lung cancer."

Shocked and not believing it's true, I asked worriedly, "what has he told you what to do, what kind of treatments did he offer you?".
The silence on the other site made me more and more worried.
Then my friend said, "He told me, there isn't anything to do. He gave me a life expectancy of three months more or less".

I was shocked and speechless. Then, after some seconds I asked, "what does it mean, they can't do anything? They could operate. And, why don't they irradiate or give you a chemotherapy? Maybe they even find a lung for a transplanting."
"The doctor said it is impossible," said my friend.
I asked him "why?". He didn't answer my question.
"You know?" he said "I know what it means to die of lung cancer. My dad had lung cancer, too. I still remember how he tried to breathe. I have still his coughing in my ears. He died a cruel death."

"But since that time the scientists have found new medicaments and the treatments are much more effective than still many years ago.", I tried to argue.
It seemed as if he had not heard my objection.

Instead, he continued "Music is my life. I can't sing anymore when I don't have enough air in my lungs. That's a big tragedy for me. It's my death in advance."
Then he suddenly said "As I don't have much trust in doctors, I hope they do err with the time that remains for my life. I heard from people they have lived still much longer  than doctors had told them before."

His mood switched from hope to hopelessness and back to hope again, and I had no recipe for comforting him. Every single word I would have said would have sounded like a mocking.

He doesn't have a close relationship with his family. But he cares for one of his three sisters. She lives in a clinic for mentally ill people. Showing weakness and emotions isn't his thing, but as he spoke about her, he was crying. I noticed that though he tried to hide it. He doesn't know how to tell her that he will go away sometime.

The best what I could do was listening to him, to weaken his sorrows, and to strengthen his hopes with words. I noticed he was relieved, having talked to me. I had the impression it had burdened him not to have spoken yet to anyone about this matter and soul-pain.
But for me is it a heavy burden and a deep sorrow because I know, it is impossible for me to help him.

I can't do anything else than to be here, listen to him whenever he wants to talk and whenever he needs me as a friend.

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Comment by bet on Wednesday

Rose, how is your friend now, you can tell the address of MYEc, here he can have some friends!

Comment by Rose on Wednesday

Of course, Camel, dying is a part of our life as same as the birth.
But we may feel pity, and it's allowed to be sad.
When young people passed away, we have the impression life had been finished too early.

I always say, "the first step of the life is also the first step towards the death."

The difference is only the number of steps we may do.

Comment by Camel on Wednesday

Firsts of all, dead is a piece of life, we should accept this.Sooner or later each people will die, As to cancer, this ilness is only better if you have a good morale.I appreciate your behaviour towards him. Well done.

Comment by Rose on Sunday

Dear Luci,

thanks a lot for your comforting words though nothing can comfort at all.

You know? The hardest is the distance between us because I can't be personally there for him.

Canada isn't just around the corner. My worry, I will not know when his time will be over. I know his character. He doesn't complain. It was already a big step to speak to me about the sickness. And my fear is, no one will tell me when he has died. I just hope, he will keep in touch with me as long it's possible for him.

Comment by Luci on November 18, 2017 at 8:50
Dear Rose,

I overlooked your this blog and after reading it ...let me say it touched my heart even though i dont know your friend but it is very emotionally written and very sad.. I am really sorry about this all and I just wish you were his companion on his way of leaving this world.. I do believe it must be very painful and psychologically tough but I know you are strong woman with golden heart and you can make it...dear Rose I wish I could send you some more strength.. damnnn that's so touchy :(
Comment by bet on November 16, 2017 at 8:38


Comment by Rose on November 15, 2017 at 11:08

You are right, bet, though our world never before had been so connected than nowadays, people getting more and more lonely because they lose the ability to communicate in the real world.

But sometimes, for people, it isn't so difficult, when they speak only on the phone about problems because they wouldn't  speak about their worries and fears face to face.

Comment by Rose on November 15, 2017 at 10:40

Thanks Diah for your encouraging and comforting words.

Comment by bet on November 15, 2017 at 4:56

What to say! Anybody  reads this post will be sad for sure, I am also. But, let me say, to decide or unintentionally to be alone is not a good thing. Nowadays people around the globe developing this tendency more than previous. As a result people are more lonely. We should not talk or communicate with people on net or phone we should have many people in our real life. Rose, thanks a lot for your good deeds but tell your friend not to loose his hope, Maybe hops is still there!

Comment by Diah on November 15, 2017 at 3:40

Rose, I really know how it feels. You might be very shocked. But you are right, the best thing to do to help him is just listening to his complains and keep supporting him in every situations. 

As for me, no human in this world like to be alone. And when he told you his story, that means he trust you. What a nice friend you are

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