My last goodbye

It was the end of February, it had been a hard winter, and I could see the end of life lingering in his eyes. In the past year I have formed a relationship with an elderly man. A father son relationship would be a fitting description. His name is David, he is in his late 80s, and he lived in a small yellow house at the end of my street. I would describe his appearance as weathered, the valleys in his skin suggest his life has not been easy. He is the last survivor of his family and the toll of goodbye has marred him. He is a survivor though, still intact but in need of help. That's where I come in.

It was sometime in June when we first met. I noticed his property was falling apart and the lawn looked like it had been neglected for some time. I rolled my mower down the street one day and knocked on his door to see if he needed help. To be honest I was just looking for some good karma. Little did I know I would be meeting a man that would change my life. When I asked him if he would like me to mow his lawn he immediately accepted my offer and his face lit up. I told him it was no problem and I went about my work. I have always liked to help people with things I am capable of doing. In good time I was finished and his yard looked great. It was a big improvement to the sordid landscape that plagued his house when I arrived. When he noticed I was done he slowly teetered down his steps and started profusely thanking me and he told me how he has been praying to god for someone to help him. At this point I realized how vulnerable of a state he was in. He spoke broken English and in a short conversation I understood enough to know he had a heart of gold. In actuality though, he had a very weak heart. He told me he had cancer and he was unable to undergo treatment because his heart wouldn't be able to handle the stress of it. He told me about how his wife and children had died and how he was all alone. He told me a lot about himself and there was no shortage of sadness but through it all I gathered an overwhelming sense of hope that still lived in him. I found this incredibly moving and I knew from this point on I was going to help him with anything I possibly could.

I felt that there was a deeper reason we crossed paths. It seemed all too meaningful compared to the drudgery that my daily life consisted of at the time. It was definitely something I was going to see through. We stayed in touch often and whenever his name appeared on my phone I would always answer. I never viewed his calls as a nuisance either, it truly made me happy to help him in any way I could. He lived in a nice place but it was definitely dilapidated and there was no shortage of work, inside and out. Luckily, I have been working in construction my whole life so I felt confident tackling any task he laid out for me. I was also grateful for the experience I was gaining working on homes. It was not something I did often at my job and it was a welcomed change. During the course of these jobs I never received payment. This did not bother me in the least, I sensed he didn't have a lot of extra money and his thanks was so genuine it was payment itself. I also had a sense that there was something bigger at play. I felt I was doing important, meaningful work.

As the months went on I did more and more jobs for him. Through the winter I would shovel his driveway when it snowed and continue working on the inside. He would often sit with me when I worked and tell me stories of his life and impart little bits of wisdom I still recall today. I was learning a lot from him about life.

There was a night and day difference in his house from the time we met to now. But as his house was improving his health was slipping away. The cancer was too much for him. He seemed tired in a way that was new, more serious than ever before. He told me he knew that he didn't have long to live and he was not afraid at all. He was a very religious man and he had a deep belief that god was going to take care of him.

One day as I was leaving his house I noticed that he seemed especially weak. He was fading fast and I thought to myself this might be the last time I see him. In case it was, I wanted to say some sort of goodbye. I told him how much I've enjoyed our talks and how I'm glad that I met him. How had imparted a lot of wisdom to me and given my life meaning at a time when I desperately needed it. This relationship really was a two way street and I wanted him to know that. He told me he has been waiting to give me something and he walked over to his cabinet to get it. It seemed like it took him an eternity to get across his room and this really cemented the idea in my head that when i left i would be saying my final goodbye. He brought out a little black book and handed it to me. The book was dusty and had an elastic piece of string on it keeping it shut. He told me not to open it now, he wanted me to wait till tomorrow morning. He said it was a gift and he told me again how much he appreciated me for all the work I had done for him.

I had trouble sleeping that night. I found myself wide awake at 3 am which is not normal for me. I usually sleep soundly but my wind was racing. I was thinking about David and about the book he has me . I had no idea what the significance of it was and I had to know. I leaned over the side of my bed and pulled my bag up onto the bed. I grabbed the book, undid the elastic band and sat there with it on my lap. The room felt heavy and I didn't know why. When I opened the book my jaw dropped. I was in total disbelief. Inside the book the pages were hollowed out and inside the cavity lay two piles of hundreds wrapped in mustard clips reading “$10,000”. I was in shock. He left me $20,000? I didn't know what to do. What could i do besides lay there astonished at the mysteries life unfolded before me.

When it finally felt like an appropriate time to head over to David's I did. I had so many questions to ask that I didn't know where to begin. When I was halfway down my street I knew what I feared had come true. There was an ambulance outside his house and two cop cars. When I arrived, I told the officers I was a friend of his and I asked them what was going on. They confirmed my fear for me. He was dead. My last goodbye really was my last goodbye. I never got to ask him about the money or even thank him. Then it occurred to me, this is the way he wanted it. He must have sensed that his time was up. He didn't want me to open the book till the morning because he knew he wouldn't be here for my questions and possible refusal. A sense of peace came over me then and walked home from his house that day for the last time, richer in more ways than one, forever grateful for the time I spent with that old man at the end of the street.