Let it be said that I am not in the best of moods.
There is this second cousin of mine... Previous to my father's massive stroke (and the end of him being either useful or fun for this second cousin) my father and this man were close. They spent their childhood together fishing, hunting, and generally being young boys of the 1950's and 1960's. They both married and the families were close. At the time of my father's stroke this man made certain that he showed up to the hospital to tell us of how very sorry he was for this to happen to my dad. But since then we've not seen him too much. This guy calls other family members and informs them "I went by Mickey's house..." What he must mean is that he drove by on his way to work, because he's never stopped. Never rung the doorbell and hung out with the man he used to call his friend. And everytime he would bump into my mom at the grocery store, he'd always mention how he had just shot the best deer and was going to bring my dad some that week. Those weeks passed. He never came.
My grandmother on my mom's side died. And since there was going to be family congregated that would possibly notice him not being there, he showed up. He stood by my dad and told great stories of his most recent accomplishments. The three foot catch, the ten point buck. He must have lost track of which great accomplishment he was speaking of when he told my brother and I how he caught this great rockfish and "field dressed" it right there on the spot. What the hell was the rockfish doing in the field? I wanted to ask, but to keep peace, I held my tongue.
This man is a pastor of a church. He is supposed to be a shepherd. Comfort in times of need. To me he is a joke. He is someone that I look at and say to myself "don't be like him." Do more. Show up. Be present. And don't point out all of your successes. And the ways in which you matter.
Because the minute you do you will end up field dressing a fish.