Giuseppe-Sitting

In 2008, I flew into Phoenix and was met by my friend Eric who drove me to his house, an hour-and-a-half north, in Cottonwood, Arizona. He and his wife, Tracy, were going on a trip, and while they were gone, I had agreed to help run their art gallery and watch their dog, Giuseppe. I had not seen Giuseppe since then, but when I arrived this time, he seemed to recognize me immediately, hugging onto me. Even though this time my intention was not to gallery-sit or dog-sit, on the second day of my visit, Tracy received a call from her grandfather, wanting her to come 150 miles south to Casa Grande: his wife, who was in Hospice, was dying. Quickly, Eric and Tracy loaded their vehicle and took off with their one-year-old son, Cayden. Tracy’s grandmother passed away 45 minutes after she arrived, and Tracy, Eric, and Cayden stayed in Casa Grandre for a couple of nights. I remained in Cottonwood and watched Giuseppe again. I suppose it could seem I chose a poor time to visit, but I’m glad I was there. I’m sure someone else could have watched Giuseppe, but it was easiest for me to do so—and I was still able to visit with Giuseppe’s family and see Cayden walk, which he’d only started doing two days before I arrived. Yesterday, I saw a book about ministering to people while one is “on the road.” It encourages us to be aware of opportunities for assisting others even when we’re away from home. I don’t know that God planned for me to be in Cottonwood at that time, but I appreciated having the opportunity to help out one of my dearest friends. I couldn’t help remembering being in Athens, Greece in 1997 and receiving a phone call in my hotel room from my mother, informing me that my grandmother had passed away. I went to another floor of the hotel and knocked on a door. Tracy, who had met my grandmother, came out and sat with me. That sympathy means as much to me today as it did then.