"Call me"

Today, a guy gave me his number. He was 56 years old. His charming persona and contagious smile was in no way diminished by his somewhat feeble stance. With multiple myeloma, and a once shattered pelvis, he recovered quite well. Happy to be using a walker rather than a wheelchair, his spirit and endurance would put an athlete to shame.

I was wearing a shawl that day, as it was quite chilly in the building. (I always prefer pretty scarves to big ugly coats.) It was crimson red with gold thread patterns and paislys dancing through it. It caught his beautiful eye, and sparked a conversation - something I'm not very good at starting myself.

As he went on about the material and beautiful pattern, I was quite drawn to someone, particularly a male, who would bother to adore such a thing. As he spoke, and went on into "tangential" stories, he forgot what he was saying and paused... "That's one thing cancer does for you, it robs the end of your story." The statement made me frown, and give him a hug for lack of a better offering.

The truth is, he is dying. A few years ago, an artist, writer, gentleman, father, a husband, and very charming man "got sick". But I asked myself as I pondered the heaviness of that reality... How much did that really affect him? He was still an artist, still a writer, still a gentleman, still a father, still a husband, and still very, very charming. Cancer may have robbed him of the end of a few stories, but certainly it did not define the end of his story.

Our unplanned, hour-long conversation ended up meaning the world to me. "I'm so glad to have met you," I told him, "I'm not very good at starting conversations, but I really do love them." With a chuckle, he quickly replied, "I just have to say hi to people, you know? I love people."

Sometimes all it takes is an appreciation to find lovely and encouraging things... Or lovely and encouraging people. As I departed, he said, "I've just met you, and I already miss you..." It struck me to the core. By this time, I'd already hugged him twice. "Three times is the charm," I said, and leaned to embrace him once more.

Today,

An artist

A writer

A gentleman

A father

A husband 

A true charmer... 

Gave me his number.

"Call me."