by David Harder
Final Grains of Sand
©2018 by David Harder
All rights reserved
ISBN: 978-1-62020-611-9
eISBN: 978-1-62020-685-0
Cover Design and Page Layout by Hannah Nichols
eBook Conversion by Anna Riebe Raats
Printed in the USA
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To Dr. Emily Weinacker,
an amazing, loving wife & a gift from God.
Dedicated to Roy Kreider Woods II
February 6, 1936 ~ March 14, 2013
Although I never personally met Roy, I discovered through his daughter the truth concerning this brilliant man. A wonderful husband, terrific father, and loving grandfather, Roy instilled in his children appreciation for classical music and the ballads. A member of Kappa Sigma while attending the University of Illinois, Roy served four years in the U.S. Navy as a pilot. He enjoyed and continued flying as a civilian. A man of inspiration and character, Roy was an adventurous spirit, participating in every sport, including skydiving, racquetball, boating, traveling, and studying. Roy appreciated and loved traveling the world. Roy was also a wise business investor, and he worked as an industrial engineer for Northwestern Steel and Wire Company for more than thirty years. I wish I could have met Roy because this loving man was a tremendous influence on his family and many other people. Plus, he crammed an enormous amount of life into the limited time he had on this earth. The life of Roy Woods provided the inspiration for this book.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Information
Dedication
Preface
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Bibliography
About the Author
Contact Information
PREFACE
BIRTH AND DEATH ARE NATURAL parts of life. No one gets to choose who his or her parents are or where they are born in this world, yet our character determines how well we handle our journey. From adversity, one person rises to become a national leader, and another, whose life seemed perfect, develops into a living monster. Our journey is littered with peaks and valleys. How we deal with our challenges reveals our true selves.
Cancer is one of the most malignant and destructive diseases known to man. It is no respecter of persons and kills 8.8 million people every year. Almost every one of us is familiar with someone—a friend, relative, loved one—whose life was cut short because of cancer. I’ve never survived cancer, but I have close friends who’ve beaten the odds. Whether they survive or succumb, their stories are eerily similar. If nothing else, it causes us to pause and appreciate this moment, this day, as a treasure.
Although Final Grains of Sand is fiction, the story is one with which many folks can easily identify. The main character, James Kreider, has everything in his favor until, unexpectedly, he is diagnosed with a rare form of cancer. Married with three grown children, his estranged wife was involved in a tragic car accident many months before his diagnosis. Alone and struggling with his personal legacy, Jim eventually plans his funeral and, for his friends, a unique experience. He selects five individuals to represent his life at the memorial service. None of these people know each other nor are they prepared for the revelations resulting from their participation. Jim selects his boss, Nathanial; his neighbor, Joe; Michael, the pastor of his church; Tom, his physician; and a woman James was involved with for many, many years—Arleen. Each individual has a unique perspective on the man they knew, and like a diamond in the rough, they must chisel at the edges of his story until the gem of their friend emerges.
The story of James Kreider concerns relationships. Not all of Jim’s friends are Christian, yet how he lived his life imparted a message of God’s love and forgiveness to friends and strangers alike. Like a mirror of reality, learning the information between the covers of a book defines the message hidden in the pages. The life of James Kreider is no different.
We live in an era where churches are experiencing membership decline. All too often, they have lost touch with the message of Jesus—that is, loving our fellow human and bringing God’s “Good News” message to everyone. Society, including Christianity, is rampant with quick judgment and doctrinal standards that are many times not biblical. Still, Jesus’ message is a simple one, brought to everyday people and delivered in a practical format: Love! Value everyone around you. See the beauty in every individual. Encourage one another. Remember, life is not perfect, and neither are humans, but we can make a difference in the world. Choose love.
CHAPTER ONE
“JAMES, WOULD YOU STEP INTO my office, please?”
At the doctor’s appearance, Jim stood up. He had been scanning, but not reading, a tennis journal. Jim flopped the magazine on the side table and followed the doctor down the hallway. He was apprehensive about why Doctor Nolan wanted to meet with him—face to face—on short notice.
During the quick drive from his business office, Jim was distracted as he mentally ran through the various reasons why he might be here. He wondered if it was a mistake to cancel his important sales meeting this morning. He’d had a physical a few weeks ago, but it was routine. Most likely the doctor was following up on test results—perhaps the blood tests or the PET scan. Jim felt confident he’d get a glowing report, since he was in excellent health. Surely there wasn’t anything the doctor couldn’t tell him in a few days.
“Please have a seat, James.”
The office felt warm, and Jim’s mouth was dry. He was suddenly thirsty.
“What’s the urgency, Doc?” Jim tucked his long legs under the chair and watched Dr. Nolan close the door before walking around to the other side of his desk. Sitting up straight, Jim edged forward in his seat.
Dr. Nolan removed his glasses and rubbed the red spots on the bridge of his nose before speaking.
“James, we need to talk about your lab test results because they’re concerning. I ordered so many tests because I wanted to be sure of the results.”
“Everything is fine, isn’t it?” Jim shifted uncomfortably, his cocksure, business attitude deflating at the sight of the doctor’s grave face.
Dr. Nolan looked him in the eye. “James, we’ve been friends a long time. I’m going to give it to you straight. It appears your body has an invasion of three different cancers that are feeding off each other in several vital organs. Cancer has invaded your liver, pancreas, spleen, and possibly your kidneys. I can’t begin to tell you how exceedingly rare your condition is.”
“Wait a minute, Doc. This makes no sense. I feel fine, and I’ve never been sick a day in my life.”
“You feel fine now, yes, but I’m afraid those feelings aren’t permanent.”
Jim shook his head and then ran his hands through his dark hair. This couldn’t be happening. But he’d known the doctor for decades; he wouldn’t lie.
Dr. Nolan sat back and waited for Jim to absorb the enormity of the situation.
“I have three cancers? I . . . I . . . How is this possible? I’ve always been so healthy.” Jim began to pant, his breathing labored. “Okay, wait a minute. So, I’ll need to take some time off from work, but you’re saying chemo, radiation, surgery—they’re an option for me, right?”
Dr. Nolan got up and sat in the chair next to Jim, putting his hand on Jim’s shoulder.
“The cancers are fast-growing and widespread. You could go that route. We might buy some time and maybe add two or three months at the most. However, you would have to decide if the side effects are worth it.”
Time came to a screeching halt for Jim. Frightened, he inquired in a nervous voice, “What kind of time are we talking about?”
“After seeing the scan images, I conferred with several friends and oncologists around the country. Short of a miracle, the consensus is three to maybe four months. I wish I had better news, James.”
Jim shook off the doctor’s hand and stood up. “What caused this? Why don’t I feel anything drastic?”
“Those are questions I can’t answer.”
“I know I’ve felt fatigued a lot lately, but I just figured I was working too hard and not sleeping enough. Everyone has fatigue, right?” Jim paced, rubbing his face. He stopped. “What if I hadn’t come in for the physical?”
Dr. Nolan did not sugarcoat his next edict, and his voice was kind. “You would still experience your illness, but you would face it thoroughly unprepared.”
Jim suddenly felt faint, like someone had sucked all the oxygen from the room. He collapsed into the chair. He was unprepared for the dreaded word cancer. Random thoughts hit him in machine-gun succession. Normally self-reliant, Jim was quickly devoid of immediate answers. He bent over at the waist and placed his head between his knees and slowly began to rock.
Dr. Nolan’s hand hovered above Jim’s back.
“James, are you in any pain at the moment? Can I get you something?”
Jim shook his head but continued to rock.
“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to confirm my findings with a couple more biopsies—perhaps run another PET scan with contrast.”
Jim stopped rocking and sat up, staring at Dr. Nolan.
“Doc, I mean no disrespect, but poking holes in sensitive areas of my body, yanking out tissue or bone, and pumping me full of radioactive junk doesn’t sound pleasant. Will it help rule out cancer?”
“It will confirm my findings.”
“This can’t actually be happening. Why now? Why me?”
“James, you’re not even sixty and—”
“No, unfortunately, I turned sixty last week.”
Startled, Dr. Nolan said, “Seriously, James? Has it been that long? I remember delivering you. I know you have three lovely children, but you should be looking forward to a full life with grandchildren and retirement.”
Jim put his head in his hands again, making a wordless, groaning sound.
“I would recommend reaching out to family and getting some support. In less than two months, your organs are going to start to fail, and before the third month is finished, you’ll be needing twenty-four-hour care. Right now, while you can, make some decisions by planning and making arrangements.”
Jim blankly stared at the doctor.
“Well, I guess that last part is easy. When I’m dead, cremate my body, and scatter the ashes to the wind.”
“James. I’m serious. If you want, I could contact your family.”
“Please don’t! Your information is a lot to digest, and it appears I haven’t much time to spend it casually.”
Jim stood and turned, facing the door.
Dr. Nolan reached out, grabbing Jim’s shirt sleeve.
“If you need anything, anything at all, please get in touch with me. My receptionist will give you my personal cell phone number, and you can call me day or night. If you’re in pain, I’ll immediately arrange for something at the hospital or your pharmacy. If you don’t mind, I would like to see you again in one month.”
Resting his hand on the doorknob, Jim stood frozen, staring at the closed office door. His voice was flat, monotone.
“I need a little time to figure some things out, and I appreciate your concern. You’ve been a terrific doctor, but I think I need to spend some time alone. Please do not discuss my condition with anyone or make any family calls. I beg you.”
“Of course. You have my word, James.”
Jim walked out of the office to the parking lot. After dropping his full weight into the leather seat of his BMW 540, Jim looked at his watch.
Three o’clock!
In a fit of frustration, Jim yanked the Rolex off his wrist. He tossed it on the passenger side of the car’s floor. Clenching his fists, he hammered on the steering wheel with eyes tightly closed.
“I can’t be dying. I’m too young.”
Peering in the rearview mirror, Jim studied his chiseled face, looking for signs of any sickness. He pulled down on one lower eyelid, staring at the steel-gray iris, and then opened his mouth, inspecting everything with his tongue stuck out.
Jim shook his head. He then started the engine and ignored the seatbelt warning indicators. The BMW screeched backward from the parking stall, and then jerked to a stop. Heading for the exit, the car leaped from the curb like a cheetah. The tires squealed as Jim drove off in a rush, speeding down the boulevard.
* * *
Dr. Nolan gathered the lab reports and various papers associated with his patient. He took his time as he slid the papers into a thick folder. Sitting down, Dr. Nolan let his finger trace out the name, James Kreider, printed along the edge.
Dr. Nolan buried his face in his hands and wept. Choking on his words, he began to pray.
“Our Father, Who is in heaven, great is Your Name. Your kingdom come, Your will be done—”
CHAPTER TWO
CHANGING HIS MIND ABOUT RETURNING to work, Jim steered the BMW toward his house. Thoughts and actions were in slow-motion. On the ride home, Jim spent time reflecting on his life.
Of his three children, only Stephanie, his oldest daughter, showed any promise. Steph, as Jim called her, was in her fourth year at Stanford, studying economics—a degree which Jim and his daughter argued about until they were both blue in the face. It was careless of Stephanie to start college three years after high school just so she and her friends could tour Europe; but her degree decision was incredibly off-base, and Jim saw no future for her.
All of Jim’s logic fell on deaf ears because Stephanie was determined it was the right choice for her. Jim finally conceded, acknowledging she had her mother’s stubbornness and her father’s tenacity of challenging the norms. Stephanie was dating a medical student, and the two were already planning their future.
Will I live long enough to see them get married? Jim thought.
Robert, the middle child, was in his sixth year of college and studying business law at Santa Clara University—a Franciscan college in northern California. When Jim questioned Robert’s decision to attend law school after spending the first four years of college in computer technology, Robert’s excuse was more money.
“You mean more of my money?” Jim remembered asking his son over the phone.
It seemed Robert had inherited his mother’s stubbornness as well.
Staci, the youngest daughter, was the problem child, and it was her mother’s fault for spoiling Staci when she was young. Constant trips to the doctor for ear infections, runny noses, and a sundry of the ancillary ear, nose, and throat conditions plagued Staci for her first seven years. Then, as if by some unidentified miracle, she was instantly healed. From that point forward, Staci’s rebellion developed.
Now living with some jobless poet four years her junior and
in dilapidated section-eight housing, Staci had refused any monetary support. Studying art at an obscure college in Houston, Texas, Staci was also the visual poster child for tattoo and metal piercings. She was a beautiful little girl, and Jim could never understand why she had to destroy her beauty with “body art.” Her last Christmas card included a photo of her and what’s-his-name sitting completely unclothed somewhere in the middle of nowhere and looking like two circus freaks. Jim tore the picture into shreds the moment it escaped the envelope.
Jim and his wife, Samantha, had been married only ten years when their marriage showed signs of severe fractures. They were high school sweethearts, and everyone had predicted a long, happy future on their wedding day. But starting out at age twenty and nineteen respectively, Jim and Samantha matured along two divergent paths.
They added children, thinking this would improve their relationship, but it only made things worse. As they entered their thirties, it was apparent that their love was lukewarm at best. It never improved, and this frustrated Jim, but he also refused to seek help from an outside counselor. They kept the relationship alive for the sake of the children only.
Jim and Samantha eventually agreed to live separate lives under the same roof—again, for the benefit of the children. Polite and courteous, all external appearances to friends and relatives presented a picture of an ordinary family. Inside the home was the opposite, with Jim and Samantha fiercely arguing over which direction a chair should face in the family room. They regretted the pettiness of their arguments but also refused to yield to one another or find any common ground.
All of Jim’s children had spread their wings immediately after high school graduation, leaving Jim and Samantha alone in their four-bedroom, two-story suburban monolith. Meanwhile, Samantha had started quietly dating a younger man from her workplace. Jim knew about it, but at least Samantha was respectful enough that she never brought the kid around the house. As time slipped by, Jim and Samantha worked out their love-hate relationship and agreed to be roommates. At least Jim had someone to talk to at the end of a day, and Samantha had a solid business mind she could bounce ideas off of. With very limited interaction, they made their dysfunction function.
