I raised my kids to feel empathy for others. Over many years, we've housed or entertained dozens of their friends during times of need. Yesterday, in typical family tradition, my youngest daughter asked if her friend (who has no family locally) could join us for word games. Of course, we happily obliged. She told us his story and asked us not to bring it up because "everyone" offers him unsolicited and unwelcome advice. Turns out, this young man, only 25 years of age, has brain cancer. His first surgery failed because the cancer returned. Controversy erupted when he refused another round of chemotherapy, saying it made him too sick. Some friends complain that he shouldn't give up the fight. Others support his decision, believing that he will eventually seek further treatment after a welcome break in the suffering. My daughter only wanted one night of fun and companionship for him, one without the tarnished good intentions of advice-givers. He had a blast! Laughed with my other adult kids. Won a few word matches. Enjoyed pizza and ice cream. His eyes danced as he became immersed in our way of life. When he left, he thanked every person individually for sharing time with him. Today, I'm pondering my own feelings about the young man. Is he brave for making a controversial decision about his quality of life? Perhaps, I mistake resignation of mortality for courage, when it actually reflects defeat of the human spirit. I can't decide. All I know for sure, is that no matter what decision he makes in the future, he will take memories of one happy, carefree evening of BananaGrams with him. I wish him the best and hope he enjoys quality of life...preferrably a long life. I am thinking about getting in touch with him to have a fatherly chat...yes, another do-gooder, trying to convince him that his life is worth fighting for. But, if I do that, will I somehow taint the memory of last night? What would you do?