My Friend Alex

This is a picture of my friend Alex Tyree preaching about the Big Love at my church, Sts. Andrew and Matthew. Alex spoke often about this Big Love being expressed on earth.

Back when Alex was 17, he had Hodgkin's Disease and recovered after a year of chemo and radiation. In 2008, he was diagnosed with late stage Gastric cancer at 49. Through his blog, Alex wrote about having this disease from the perspective of middle-age, as well as having over 18 years as a hospice professional. He wrote about his life continually deepening through this experience.

Alex's last blog entry on February 19, 2010 at 10:09 PM, contained stories about the days visitations from family, his stops at the local coffee shop, Brew Ha Ha, and about his wife Cheri's first day of short-term medical leave. He wrote about the sunset that he could see through the trees from a window in his house. This is his last paragraph:

All I have been recounting in this message is about relationships and how they convey the kind of comprehensive healing power that one needs at this time. It is not necessarily dramatic, but when taken together, is quite miraculous and powerful. It is the Big Love on earth being manifested through its many conduits.

Some of you may remember a prior entry that I wrote about Alex and his trip to see John of God. Alex recounted how in just being in John's presence the two of them seemed to recognize each other's souls. John could not offer physical healing for Alex, but he stayed an additional week just cause.

Alex transitioned to his next journey on Feb. 24 at 3 AM surrounded by his wife and his hospice nurse. He died holding hands, peaceful music playing and a lavender candle scenting the room. Cheri reminded us that she and Alex had been reading and talking about transitioning being like a birth, sometimes messy and uncomfortable, but a journey towards embracing the lightness of spirit.

Cheri has just written today that Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote, "Nothing can make up for the absence of someone whom we love, and it would be wrong to try to find a substitute: we must simply hold out and see it through. That sounds very hard at first, but at the same time, it is a great consolation, for the gap, as long as it remains unfilled, preserves the bonds between us. It is nonsense to say that God fills the gap; God doesn't fill it, but on the contrary, keeps it empty and so helps us to keep alive our former communion with each other, even at the cost of pain."

I was so blessed to have known Alex. He was my hospice volunteer when Jim died. He and Cheri and Jamie sat in front of me at church. I loved sharing the peace with all of them.

So, in this gap I will remain.