The Rev. Dr. Bradford E. Ableson, Capt., USN

This morning, Father Brad Ableson, Priest of the Church, died.

That solitary sentence would do well with him because he was a priest, Navy chaplain and gentleman who was quick to laugh, even faster on the uptake, and not a fan of fuss. To that last point I blogged about his unique and senior status in this episcopacy once before and he was not pleased. Oh, he was respectful enough, just silent on the subject. I removed the compliments but I continued to think of them as I do now. I have never known a man with as singular a sense of loyalty to friends and colleagues. And that circle seemed to be perpetually widening.

He may have been uncomfortable with too public conversations about himself but he loved to tell a good story and nobody could do it better. He was a bit of a delightful snob about that. And if ever there was a man of promise it would have to be Brad as we all anticipated his next move to the Chief's office where he would be working with his old tent mate, Admiral Blues Baker.

We all shook our heads when he was diagnosed with ocular melanoma. As Brad said, "No one wants to win that lottery." Melanoma gives cancer a bad name. He faced it, the loss of an eye, the trial injections at Sloan Kettering, an invasion to his liver, and the parade of procedures with intelligence, humor, and always with his concurrent narration of "the metrics of my cancer and where I am in that timeline." I can hear him saying that now.

"This cancer is my gift," he said to me once. It clarified certain truths he held dear and even drew him forward in his relationships with God and loved ones. It's not a new thing that someone gets clarity from their disease...one author even opined that once the blinding effects of end-stage cancer were mastered therein was a creative potential that life was finite and beautiful. That is about what Brad did--as with most things in his life--treating it with respectful fascination. He went to a Calgary rodeo, received an award from Yale, kept up with phone calls, and still read and wrote voraciously with one eye.

Invariably one would often reach the impression that, "he can't be this brave when facing death" and certainly he had his moments. But there he'd be talking and being upbeat with that lively, endearing mind. He believed steadfastly that the lasting gift you have to give God, to others, and to yourself is a noble death. And we were all brought into his practicum knowing that the end would come...just not yet.

He remained on Active Duty right to the end--which he trivialized as not really going to the office--but I, along with so many others, called him regularly for advice and conversation. He assisted me with the course of a chaplain's assignments mere days before he died. I fret now that I wasn't more respectful of his weakened state but that wasn't the Brad Ableson I grew to know, respect, and very much love.+gep