Throughout my life I have been blessed with a wealth of friends; the kind of friends that have completed me. Diversity has been the key to successful relationships. I have a tendency to select individuals that I feel mirror a particular trait of myself, a friend for each of my journeys. Strangely enough many of my friends do not know each other, not just because I have been in a different community but because I am also quite secretive about my life and who I tend to share it with. The one and only thing that each of my friends have in common with one another is that they all complete me…. somehow.
I met a man 68 years of age, over a year and a half ago. Most people would cross the street or turn their heads if they saw him on the street; with his large presence, his hands and face deeply embedded with scars from age, alcohol, and having lived a very hard life. My initial conversation with him consisted of only a smile and a quick hello. I recall walking by him and feeling a longing to turn around and ask him how he was, but I continued on my way.
Two days later I saw him again and stopped to engage in a conversation. He remarked that he thought I had a beautiful smile and that he remembered me from two days passed. We stood and talked for over an hour, in fact we genuinely connected. I asked him to meet me the following day for coffee, although he was reluctant to do so…he did. Monday through Friday every week for a whole year I met him for morning coffee. We shared our lives with one another like we were childhood friends.
I never introduced him to any of my friends nor did I meet his, I had him to me and me to him. One day in particular he told me that he was not able to meet me for coffee the next day as it was his birthday and he would be celebrating with his friends. I just knew he was not celebrating with anyone. That night I asked my girls to bake a cake for a “friend of mine.”
The following day the girls and I went to his house, we knocked on the door and as he opened it we began singing Happy Birthday to him; we lit the candles and watched him blow them out. Although he is a rough and tough old man, I noticed while he had his eyes closed while making “a wish” tears ran down the side of his face. My last time having coffee with him he revealed that he never experienced that in his life, not once!
I have not seen or spoken to him since then, my journey with him ended. My purpose was fulfilled. I was that person that was meant to show him joy. His purpose for being on my path was to show me that I can be a channel of peace, love and acceptance. Had I not smiled at him that day I would have never had the pleasure of knowing him or sharing with him. He and I are the oddest couple and yet he and I completed each other.
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