one man who affected me the most profoundly in my life, and he was simply a customer who came in periodically for some lunch or coffee who sat at the counter section in the restaurant where I was a cook, once told me, in the form of a card, maybe a Hallmark, that simply said:Seareach wrote:Back from my excursion to where I grew up as a child. The old cottage we lived in is still there...the chookshed (which was run down when we were kids) still stands. Many, many memories. It was wonderful...oh I miss the hills and the beautiful stands of eucalypt forests. Son of Seareach had a ball running around like a mad thing.
But I've come back to receive an email from a dear friend whose life isn't as it should be right now, and I've been so profoundly affected by this news I feel numb. I know life isn't always as we want it to be, but I always wish it were sunshine and roses for those who I love. <sigh>
His name was Clay, and I miss him dearly to this day. Our relationship consisted mainly of the normal idle chatter, and beyond some casual conversations and exchanges of quick witticisms it was no different than any other situation you might find in any restaurant between any cook and any regular elderly customer, but you see, I had never mentioned what had been troubling me so, and he had never asked, nor was I aware that my inner despair could possibly be obvious to anyone but the one I loved who had caused it to be so, but he knew. Without a word he gave me that card, without a word he put his hand on my shoulder and looked me in the eye, smiled that way you smile when you feel bad for a friend, and without a word he turned and shuffled out the door cane in hand. No words were spoken between us, and I never saw him again. I learned he died a short time after that. He was the finest man I never really knew, and no-one on earth or heaven has a place in my life or my heart that he has claimed as his, and his alone.After the rain goes; Rainbows!
I miss you Clay, and thank you.
I'm just hoping his gesture to me can in some way make it thru to you, Seareach.