We’re back–and Harlem made it all the way to the top of the hill.
He wants you all to know he’s grateful for your prayers. I wasn’t able to ensure that any of the deer would present themselves, but at least we made the climb. He brought his cane with him, just in case. The plan was for me to run back and fetch the car if it turned out that he couldn’t make it. “I think some of my old military training might come back to me, if I need it,” he said.
So he has survived and is recovering from pancreatic cancer, he has stood up against some other, unrelated, medical issues–and he made it all the way up the hill. I did my best to impress upon him the need not to overdo it, we could always try again. “Your wife will kill me dead, if I let anything happen to you.” It was the longest, and very much the steepest, walk he’d made in quite a while; and the weather was perfect, and nothing untoward happened. He also enjoyed seeing the ritzy houses in that part of our town.
Again, everybody, God has answered our prayers for this good man. For which we give thanks!
His legs are going to feel it tonight, but I don’t think he’ll mind that at all.