I had a strange conversation with a regular at work tonight. He’s been coming in since the restaurant opened. He used to come in with his partner and they ordered the same drinks every time (a brandy manhattan and a gin martini) and generally the same food. Since his partner died two years ago he stopped drinking and started coming in for the community instead of the food. I know this because he only ever eats two bites before he’s finished. He is 77 years old and alone. I’m not trying to play this up more than it is. He has a sister in Arizona who cannot afford to fly here (he says even for his funeral) and he occasionally has a friend or two join him at the restaurant. But he was going to be alone on Christmas until an employee at the restaurant invited him to their house.

Anyway, tonight I asked him why he didn’t order his regular dessert and he said it was because he was feeling sick. “I’m loosing weight you know” he said. When I asked him about it he said that he was dying. “It’s a losing battle. My body is done and my time is short. I won’t be around much longer.” Fighting against awkwardness and finding it easy to ignore my duties as the manager that night I asked him what it felt like to know or think that your life is nearly done. “I”m OK with it, you can’t grow old and be a sissy! I’m ready to go because I have lived a full life and I’ve been everywhere I want to go. My only fear is that I will outlive my body. Nothing terrifies me more than losing my independence.” “Do you have someone to take care of you if that happens?” He said that he didn’t, that his sister lives far away and can barely afford her own life let alone his.

Somehow the conversation turned to Winston Churchill at this point. He recommended his favorite Churchill biography and I wrote down the title. He told me a story or two about Churchill and FDR, how for a longtime Churchill was the leader of the free world. I told him that I was taking an extended leave of absence from the restaurant and he said he’d miss me. I got his address and phone number and suggested that we find a way to talk when I’m done working.

He has ridden his motorcycle across the United States, he’s worked as a newspaper reporter, owned a publishing company in Hollywood, seen the death of his parter of 37 years, travled around the world multiple times, and now he prefers to watch TV and read books.

I think that I would fear losing my independence too if I was without community. I think that when you live in community you’ve already experienced what it’s like to lose your independence and it no longer seems quite as terrifying. I want my friend to live with my family, to not die alone. I probably should have said something about hope in the resurrection or something like that (I mean, I am a church planter) but I just listened instead.