Two Jims
July 28th, 2024 at 11:33 pmI have two older friends, both coincidentally named Jim. Neighbor Jim is 82. When I moved into my house about 20 years ago, he had just retired and was around the age I am now. He's always been my go-to person to tell me who to call when I wasn't sure what type of contractor was appropriate, and he's done small repairs for me himself--changing a washer in the sink, replacing one of my wooden basement steps, filling in the cracks in the concrete on my front steps. And I've been doing their taxes.
Internet Jim turned 80 at the end of last year. I've never met him in person, but I've known him first on an internet group about walking we were both active in, then on Facebook when the site the walking forum was on was closed down. I've known him for even longer than I've known Neighbor Jim--around 23 years. We share a lot of interests, have had occasional phone calls and exchanged the occasional gift.
This weekend was a study in contrasts in how people age. I'd had a feeling for a while that Internet Jim was having some health problems. Once an avid hiker, and in retirement an avid photographer, his photographs had changed from photographs of birds and striking weather patterns to flowers in vases indoors. He went from being someone who hiked on the Pacific Crest and Appalachian Trails to appearing to be a shut-in, not only during the pandemic, but afterwards. I knew something was up, but didn't want to pry.
Then he disappeared from Facebook for a couple of weeks. I was worried, and rightly so. I messaged him and when he finally responded, he told me he'd been hospitalized. I gently prodded and asked about his health, saying that I wouldn't ask again if he chose not to share. He did tell me something about the chronic condition that he's been diagnosed with.
Then this week, he messaged me and asked me if I was up for chatting this weekend. I happily agreed. This wasn't that unusual--we have talked on the phone occasionally.
Then on Saturday morning, he asked if it would be ok to Facetime. I agreed, but felt a bit uneasy, since this was different.
When he appeared on screen, he was wearing a canula. Not that unusual given the recent hospitalization. But he made the purpose of the Facetime request clear: he wanted to tell me face to face (so to speak), that his prognosis is about six months (or, as he put it, "sometime between tomorrow and six months.")
He is actually in good spirits, says he is grateful for the wonderful life he has lived, has no regrets, and his biggest worry is his cat, whom he has two suitable adopters for.
We agreed to talk monthly for so long as he is in good enough health to do so, and this morning he messaged me saying that he had set up in his calendar a series of recurring calls--the next one of which will fall on my birthday.
This was sobering news.
In contrast, Neighbor Jim, who spends his days being caretaker for his wife, who has severe Parkinson's and some other medical problems, spent the past two days doing an early fall clean-up in my yard. All the annuals I get each year have already bloomed and died out, and the yard was at the point it gets to each year when the entire yard is taken over by invasive bindweed (which looks a lot like morning glory, so it's actually kind of pretty, so I normally do let it take over, but then it's a pain to pull out the dead weeds in September). Neighbor Jim seemed to be itching for something useful to do to get himself out of the house, so he offered to do the yard clean up. I hate doing any kind of yard work myself--I end up getting bit and scratched every time I spend even 10 minutes out there, so I agreed. He told me not to bother with the beer this time--I usually buy him a six-pack or two when he helps me with a chore. But I will buy him a grocery gift card, since he's saved me the hassle and the cost of having it done professionally myself (which I sometimes pay for).
We spent about an hour chatting on my porch today, and I was feeling particularly grateful that he is feeling so spry after yesterday's conversation with Internet Jim.
It was a study in contrasts.
I've lost a few friends whom I never met face to face in the past years. This song by another one of them, who passed 7 years ago this month, captures my mood: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rhg1ffYjOyw