The Man in the Biker Boots

I don't know him well. But - I do know him. And I have spent a little time chit chatting about nothing memorable with him but he laughs often while you chat with him. He helped me with my car once. Though I have no idea what the issue was. He got down on the ground to look at what was wrong. He is a nice man. Older. Especially to still be working. Someone had once told me, some time ago that he's in his seventies. I believe it even if he does drive a beautiful green Mustang. Green is not usually a color I'd attach to a beautiful car but his looks really good. It's a newer model.

Last time that I saw him he was having trouble getting down the stairs. I assumed he had just hurt his leg or something of that nature. I forget if I was walking up or down them but he was sliding down the steps, both hands behind him, moving really slowly while holding tight to the railing... his hands being his strength while moving along. I wish I had offered to help him but offers like that are often the kind of thing that can be awkward and something you are unsure of when you do not know someone well.

I had recently wondered about him because he hasn't been around. I haven't even seen his car. Working shift work often means you won't see people for extended periods of time but they almost always pop up. He won't be popping in anymore. Was told today, while being handed a get well card for him that he's dying. Terminal cancer. Not sure what kind but still I feel a sadness for him.

He is a nice man. You can tell he lived a little rough just by looking at him but that's ok... I'd venture to say he's probably really lived a life. There isn't much more to say about it. Just that it makes me sad tonight. Sad for those who love him - my father sometimes works with his son.

Prayers are with him. I pray he may have peace as soon as he's ready... but, Father, please let him be ready when You call him home.