My original post  “Something from the Kitchen” (follow link to read it now)   https://wp.me/p7evOv-6o  sparked some conversation, both by posted comments and conversations with others who told me of kitchen items of significance handed down from moms, grandmothers, aunts, and sisters. I was gratified that the idea resonated with my readers.

Today’s post is a sequel to that first post. This hand-me-down item is the green, cast-iron teapot pictured. Its story is being told today because tomorrow it leaves my kitchen for six months. And here’s why.

A long-time regional sales person with our company had been diagnosed with terminal cancer. Jonathan and I had gone through and gotten over many disagreements on work-related credit/sales issues. No matter our opposite views, we had always respected each other’s professionalism, although we would not have referred to each other as “friend.”

Taking disability time, he had come to the headquarters to say his goodbyes. When he reached my office, we hugged and cried over his life that was soon to be cut short. I spoke up. “Jonathan, I would be honored to read a Bible passage at your funeral.” He was so touched by this offer that he immediately said yes, and that he’d get back to me.

That interaction led us to become close spiritual friends in the few months he had left. We would meet every couple weeks and talk about faith, life, family, fears, his illness, and his wanting to leave a legacy for his two sons.

His pastor and I helped him plan his memorial service, and I delivered one of the eulogies. It was based on a topic of Jon’s choice—the friends we had evolved into due to his cancer. I do believe he was trying to impart a final lesson about friendship to the mourners.

At one of our get-togethers I told him about the items in my kitchen from women I love and that I would like something from him to add to my collection. “Just something small,” I said. “A cup or a spoon rest…something tangible for me to see each day.”

Having been a “food guy” for many years, he understood my request since a kitchen had always been an important space to him.

On what we knew would likely be our last visit, he brought me the teapot. After Jon died, I told Patti, a close mutual friend of ours, about it. Her regret at not having asked Jon for a kitchen item for herself was clear.

I made a decision that I knew Jon would adore: Patti and I would share the teapot. It goes between our two homes every six months. I view this as the actual final lesson from Jonathan:  Life is short. Be kind.

To my readers: In ten words or less, what final lesson would you want to share with those you leave behind?