Blessed

 

 

 

He described how he watches people.

Noticing them not by looks or what they wear, but their eyes.

“And you are blessed” he said to me.

I gave him an “Aw shucks” kind of fidget followed by “I have lost a few pounds lately.”

 

 

He smiled and explained that he has been watching my sons & my wife take care of me during the week.

“You are a lucky man.  You are blessed” he added.

“Yep, I am.  Thank you” was the only genious response I could muster.

 

He was a Reverend from New Jersey.

We never learned his name, so we just called him “Reverend.”

We would see him every day sitting poolside on the deck and later each evening seated at the next table over.

 

 

The Reverend could have been an identical twin to Cab Calloway.

And I told him so.

He then said he presided over Cab Calloway’s funeral.  As well as Calloway’s son.

During our chat he said how he admired how my boys would push me through the dining room in my wheelchair.  How they carefully would get me seated at the table.  (I hate to sit in my wheelchair to eat!)  Even help cut my dinner if my hands were too funky.

 

 

 

 

Yeah, I know Funny Meter.  This isn’t a rip-roaring post.

I’m pegging zero.

But life isn’t all shits & giggles, you know.

 

 

 

My point in all this is to remind you of how fortunate you are to have family, friends, neighbors & caregivers who give their all for your well-being.

Praise them.  Appreciate them.  And love them for their compassion.

Be thankful for what you have NOT envious for what you don’t.

And work hard each day to improve on your struggles from the previous one.

 

Blessed?  I don’t know, Reverend.  Dang lucky that’s for sure.

Keep moving.