i just sat and listened. i gave him my full attention, and listened with my heart. i could hear his fears. although he kept repeating the same words, i could hear so much more.
“i don’t want to do any more exams.”
his mother died of cancer, as did his two younger brothers, so the thought of how he might go, has always been cancer for him.
‘i understand, dad. we’re not going to make you go. early detection is good, and we are blessed with modern medicine now.’
by the end of breakfast, he looked at me and said,
‘okay, i’ll go. but not until you get back from new york. you call and change my appointment.’ this is my dad. he loves to order people around, there are no polite requests with him. he’ll give in, but he’s stubborn enough that he won’t give in all the way. so no one is going to tell him ‘when’ he’s to go anywhere.
i gave him a big hug, headed off to teach, and during my lesson, i received three calls from him, each accompanied by a voicemail.
‘manette, can you give me a call?’
‘manette, call me, i think i should go.’
‘manette, i decided to go on wednesday, so don’t cancel anything.’
i just wanted to hug him.
sometimes when you let go, and just listen with your heart, people find the courage to face their fears.