Sunday, November 03, 2013

Terminal Velocity

This is blog of Rocky Smith.  He is dying of cancer.  And blogging it.

I can only say that I know Rocky tangentially and from a distance.  We both were/are involved in the same sport of Highland Athletics (I suspect he was far better than I can ever hope to be).  We both the know some of the same people.  And I stand humbled in his presence.

I have one definitive memory of him, one that I doubt he remembers as anything other than one athlete helping another.  It was at the Arlington Highland Games, where I was making my usual attempts at throwing the caber.  I cannot always pick and pull it but I am too stubborn to let go when I should. 

He called me aside and advised me that I should just let it go when it falls - he had seen men break their shoulders trying to catch a falling caber.  I thanked him for the advice, failed my last two picks, and carried on not giving it a second thought.

Until two weeks ago when someone posted that Rocky Smith was coming to the October Games - probably his last long road trip.

Killing time waiting for a pick up, I went to his blog and read.  And was shocked.  And humbled.  Suddenly I knew who this man with the garbled speech was who shared advice with me.  He probably knew he was not doing well in May - and yet he took the time to correct me, time out of a life that literally is measured in days.

I thought of Rocky and his advice when I threw two weeks ago.  The caber did not go up, out I stepped away.  As the judge said, "No broken shoulders, no broken caber.  All is well".  And I believe I shall think of him now every time that I throw the caber for as long as I throw the caber - the kindness of a man who gave the thing most precious to him, a gift of time.

I read his blog every day now.  I will warn you up front:  It is hard.  It is honest.  It is the last testament of a man who taking a very hard thing in his life, the hardest thing of any of our lives - dying - and turning it into a teachable moment.  He might argue it is for himself, but I would argue that it really is for everyone else.

Rocky has entered the last great throw of his life - and in an infinite act of kindness he is letting us peak into what the pick and pull look like.

Throw hard Rocky.  Throw far.

1 comment:

Comments are welcome (and necessary, for good conversation). If you could take the time to be kind and not practice profanity, it would be appreciated. Thanks for posting!