So I Met This Guy
I had icy hot on this morning. I suppose that's not the best way to go to visit someone's office, particularly when you don't know the guy, but I'm trying to get by.
The man was in his mid-sixties and he surely sympathized with my aches and pains, but he also told me that they'd have to drag him out, kicking and screaming from his job.
That was the sentence before he told me that he had stage 4 cancer that was in every organ in his body.
What in the hell do you say to that?
"You look good," I said lamely.
"I don't know about that," he said, "but I'm gonna' keep battling."
I sort of wondered why he was still getting up early to go to work, but he answered my question by showing me around the grounds. He was a diligent guy. Very professional and courteous to the men who worked for him.
Somehow I mentioned one of my boys. His eyes lit up.
"I have three great kids," he said. "They all have good professional jobs. They're all happy."
I told him about my hoodlums.
"I wish my kids were home again every day," he said. "They call and they visit, but that every day hustle was fun."
"I don't know about fun," I said and we both laughed, but then I told him about watching baseball and arguing and laughing a little every day, no matter how aggravating it seems, at times.
"I spend a lot of my work day thinking back on things now," he said.
I imagined that he did.
"Sometimes I come in real tired because now I have to sleep sitting up. I got my own room away from my wife so I don't disturb her. I think a lot there too."
He said all of this without any trace of sadness. I was reviewing his place of work and making suggestions to him on how he could do things differently. Most of the time I don't pull any punches and I'm not big on complimenting people for doing what they're supposed to do.
But I complimented him.
"If there's anything you need," I said. "Or if you have any questions."
"Well, I should be okay," he answered as we shook hands, "but we're training the new guy."
Can you imagine training the new guy to take your position because you're REALLY REALLY leaving?
"If he does it just like you he'll do fine," I said.
I shook his hand a second time.
"I'm gonna' go kicking and screaming," he said.
So I met a guy today.
A good guy.
The man was in his mid-sixties and he surely sympathized with my aches and pains, but he also told me that they'd have to drag him out, kicking and screaming from his job.
That was the sentence before he told me that he had stage 4 cancer that was in every organ in his body.
What in the hell do you say to that?
"You look good," I said lamely.
"I don't know about that," he said, "but I'm gonna' keep battling."
I sort of wondered why he was still getting up early to go to work, but he answered my question by showing me around the grounds. He was a diligent guy. Very professional and courteous to the men who worked for him.
Somehow I mentioned one of my boys. His eyes lit up.
"I have three great kids," he said. "They all have good professional jobs. They're all happy."
I told him about my hoodlums.
"I wish my kids were home again every day," he said. "They call and they visit, but that every day hustle was fun."
"I don't know about fun," I said and we both laughed, but then I told him about watching baseball and arguing and laughing a little every day, no matter how aggravating it seems, at times.
"I spend a lot of my work day thinking back on things now," he said.
I imagined that he did.
"Sometimes I come in real tired because now I have to sleep sitting up. I got my own room away from my wife so I don't disturb her. I think a lot there too."
He said all of this without any trace of sadness. I was reviewing his place of work and making suggestions to him on how he could do things differently. Most of the time I don't pull any punches and I'm not big on complimenting people for doing what they're supposed to do.
But I complimented him.
"If there's anything you need," I said. "Or if you have any questions."
"Well, I should be okay," he answered as we shook hands, "but we're training the new guy."
Can you imagine training the new guy to take your position because you're REALLY REALLY leaving?
"If he does it just like you he'll do fine," I said.
I shook his hand a second time.
"I'm gonna' go kicking and screaming," he said.
So I met a guy today.
A good guy.
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