I spent many hours working with Ike over a number of years. We worked hard but always found time to enjoy our friendship. We laughed often and enjoyed the rivalry of our favorite college football teams. Being a Sooners fan, I clearly recall one October morning following an Oklahoma loss to the Texas Longhorns when I walked into my office to find a set of authentic longhorns spanning the width of my desk and Ike sitting in my chair grinning from ear to ear.
Ike and I were from different places and different times. He was 70 years old and grew up in shadows of segregation. I was 30 and grew up in a period of integration, but the difference in our age and the color of our skin held no meaning to either of us. A few years passed and Ike retired and opened the small business he always dreamed of. I stopped in frequently to share a story and talk about simpler times.
As the months passed, Ike seemed to grow weaker and I started to suspect the worst. One day I received a telephone call from a mutual friend. Ike was in the hospital and dying of cancer. I hung up the phone and immediately drove to the hospital. I was astonished to find my dear friend in such failing health. Ike didn’t have the energy to say very much but we sat together and watched a football game on the television set above his bed.
I made a point to stop in and visit with Ike each day for several weeks. Each passing day took a toll on my friend and while I knew the time was near, I did not know how much longer he would hold on. I spent my final few minutes with Ike on a Friday afternoon. He was weak but mustered the strength to talk about the regrets of his life.
Ike told me that he wished he had really listened to thunder and that he longed to hear the sound of rain falling against a window pane one more time. He told me that he loved his wife and wished he had been there for her during a difficult time in her life, but more than anything else, he wished he had spent more time as a boy with his Grandfather. A few moments later Ike fell asleep.
I stood and patted my friend’s hand and then turned and walked to the door, knowing I would not see him again. As I walked to the car I heard a clap of thunder. When I arrived at the car, the skies had opened. I turned to look at the window of my friend’s hospital room and couldn’t help but smile when I saw rain beating furiously against his window. Ike passed later that evening and I lost a dear friend of many years. (Copyright 2008, All Rights Reserved)
The regrets that Ike shared with me that afternoon have been repeated by the dying since the beginning of creation. Live each day as if it were your last — but live it to the Glory of God.
Ross