My friend Steve is in a nasty battle with cancer.

He has pancreatic cancer which has metastized and spread. He has already lived beyond what his doctors thought. He is a big, tough guy with the general constitution of an ox, and at times he has responded really well to chemo.

The doctors have to keep upping the intensity of the chemo treatments for any particular form of it until it is just too toxic. Then they put him on a different one and start again.

Through the whole thing, which is over a year now, Steve’s attitude is amazingly upbeat and accepting of what is. He hasn’t rolled to it by any means, but he is simply facing his reality with a really philosophical and positive take.

He has actually been able to work at his beloved fine carpentry for bursts of time and says that the doctors say another work period may be coming pretty soon. So far he looks good, and he has not really lost significant weight. With all due respect, he had a little to lose, so that is okay.

He has done some major traveling that he never did before, and he feels secure that his wife and daughters are provided for and all headed in good directions.

One friend’s wife has organized a party for him in August, and this friend just shows up and says, “Come on, we’re going boating,” or some such thing. Steve is much more known for working like a bull than doing frivolous things like boating. Yet fine carpentry is his true love, not an unhappy escape.

I have known that Steve wants to get a few things refurbished on his house. He has not been well enough to do it himself. So, several of us sawdust-makers have banded together and agreed that we will descend on Steve’s house and do what he wants, and I think we will make a party out of it. I called him last night and told him to put the list together. He was touched.

This kind of thing gets you thinking- What is calling from my heart for me to do NOW? How about really living like I may not be here tomorrow? In perfect synchronicity, a friend lent me the book “If You Want to Walk on Water You Have to Get Out of the Boat”. I started reading, and the main premise is that we all have a primary gift to share, and the time is NOW.

Steve is only fifty years old. Both his parents are still alive. His grandfather lived to almost a hundred. I don’t want to see him go, and I hope for the miracle. Maybe you can send some extra wishes and light his way, too.

Thanks.