Funny Guy Friday… Back to Camp Maria… It's a Wonderful Life...

     As you may recall from a previous Funny Guy Friday, every year we go on a Catholic family retreat at Camp Maria in Saint Mary's County, Maryland. It is a great time to renew our Catholic faith and spend quality time with great families who share our same values.
     Fortunately, staying up late, playing corn hole, playing basketball, swimming, belly flopping, canoeing, and having an occasional adult beverage are all good Catholic values. It is fun, it is spiritual, it is refreshing.
     Restful… hmmm... not so much.
     This year's theme was It's a Wonderful Life. Each year, the adults kick off the retreat by having each person review what has happened to them and their family since the last retreat. This year, I thought, This should be good... although we all have our ups and downs... for the most part, everyone's problems should be minimal. This should only take 30 minutes, tops.
     Oh no, I thought, Wait a second……this is not good……not good at all. Sitting to the priest's immediate right was our friend Dave. We all knew what was coming because it has been a tough year for Dave. Earlier this year, he was diagnosed with a very aggressive form of sarcoma, and after two operations to remove tumors, he has been going through intense radiation and chemotherapy. The only reason he was able to attend the retreat was because he was in between chemo treatments and wasn't set to go back to the hospital for another round until the following week.
    As if to communicate by telepathy to the priest, I willed, Please start to your left! Please start to your left! Please start to your left!
    Dang, he didn't. He started to his right.
    Wow, what a way to start off the retreat! Seriously, do we start off with the story about cancer? Can't we just hear about the lady whose cat died, or the poor sap that did not get a promotion at work? Those are good lead-off hitters… traumatic life events, but they pale in comparison to the Big C. Dave should have been our clean-up hitter.
     He started off slow but picked up the pace quickly. He spoke about the impact that this has had on his family and what they have learned. He told stories of the hundreds of people who have offered support and assistance for his family. He told about prayers and letters that he has received from good friends and from people that he hardly knows. He commented that the support that he has received was both overwhelming and humbling to him and to his wife. I slunked down in my chair hoping that Cheryl had sent over a dinner or sent a card or had done something because I knew that I had not.
     Dave's father-in-law was sitting to Dave's immediate right, and he too had been diagnosed with cancer right after Dave's diagnosis. Some form of skin cancer, I believe. Dave told the story of how his father-in-law had come up to him at one of his boys' games and told him that it looked like they would be going through chemo together.
     It turns out that the father-in-law's cancer did not require chemo, and Dave joked that his father-in-law had cancer for 36 hours. His father-in-law did, however, shave his head when Dave started to lose his hair. He thought it might be a great sign of solidarity for Dave, and he thought it would help the kids realize that losing one's hair was "no big deal." I wonder if my father-in-law would shave his head for me!  
     Anyway, in the course of his talk, Dave said that what he has gone through has helped him realize what is really important in life. He is the father of six young kids, and we all knew that he had already realized what was important before he got cancer.
     I think we all know but we tend to put things in proper perspective when faced with this type of hardship. I mean, I know that it is not really a big deal when a kid fails to tag up at third on a fly ball with less than two outs and we lose a ten-year-old baseball game by one run. I know that I shouldn't get irritated when I have no clean clothes to wear. I know I shouldn't get so upset when the kids don't put away their dishes. Those things are really kind of silly.
     Actually, the not-tagging-up example is kind of serious. I mean we did practice it almost every night. I digress.
     Dave's not even the only one in our group who is battling cancer. Last year, during circle time, our friend Ken shared his struggles with throat cancer. Young father of nine kids whose faithfulness endures.
     This year, when Dave got sick, Cheryl pointed out that every man that goes on our retreat is the same kind of guy. They are good fathers, good husbands, and faithful men. I was quick to point out that I was way more handsome, a better father, husband and way more faithful than those other guys. Oh, and did I mention how ridiculously competitive those jokers are? More on that in a minute.
     Cheryl is correct when she points out that what happened to Dave and to his family could have happened to any one of us. Any one of us could be going through radiation and chemotherapy. Again, some of us would look better with no hair than others, but that is not important.
     When it was my time to tell about my year, I pointed out that the previous year had gone pretty well. One thing that did strike me over the year was that I learned that my kids had compassion for other people. This compassion was evident with their reaction to Dave's cancer. Specifically, they cared about Dave. They worried about his health and they prayed for his recovery. They considered Dave's children and thought about how this was affecting them.
     This is funny because they rarely show compassion for me. You're getting old. On your first date, did you go pick mom up on your new dinosaur?  Dad, do you remember watching Hercules in the first Olympics?    
    So you may wonder how Dave is doing and how his cancer has affected how he conducts himself. Well, let me start with this… before getting cancer, he was funny, he was animated, he was loud, he was super competitive. He would stay up late, play corn hole, play basketball; he would swim, belly flop, canoe, and he would enjoy an occasional adult beverage.
     Since getting cancer and undergoing his treatment, he is now funny, animated, loud, and super competitive. He stays up late, he plays corn hole, he swims, and he enjoys an occasional adult beverage.
     So from what I could see, the cancer has prevented him from belly flopping, canoeing (but I think that was only because his wife stopped him) and playing basketball. Yep, a complete lifestyle change for the poor guy.
     For those of you that do not know what corn hole is, it is a game played with two boards and eight bean bags. Each board has a hole in it, and you place the boards about ten yards apart and toss the bean bags. You get three points for a shot in the hole and one point for getting it to land on the board. Sounds kind of dumb doesn't it?  
     Well, it is dumb, and I'm not just saying that because I lost every game that I played. Besides, they were foot-faulting like crazy and no one was calling it. Anyway, I played this game until 2 a.m. That sounds crazy but what is even crazier is that everyone else continued to play long after I went to bed.
     Dave is the only one who shot a perfect score… all four bags in the hole for a perfect 12 points. Don't say anything to him, but we let him do it… you know, because of his "little disability."
     As I left Camp Maria, I realized how blessed we were to have Dave and his family with us for the weekend. He was a great example both to the adults (I mean seriously, a perfect 12 points in corn hole) and to the kids.
     We all got to see that he has not let anything change the way that he approaches his life. He is still a great dad, a great husband, a good friend and above all else, he still has faith in God. His father-in-law shaved his head to show that "it is no big deal." Dave showed up at Camp Maria and showed us that no matter what "it" may be… "it is no big deal."
     My life is pretty good. My health is good, and I have a great family. There are times when little things don't go my way, but I never think to myself, why me? In fact, I often wonder why not me? I am sure that God has some doozy of an event in store for me. I am hopeful that whatever that event might be, I will be prepared. I am hopeful that no matter what it is, I, like Dave, will realize that I still have a pretty Wonderful Life. 
    Another great year at Camp Maria!