Father Andrew

Father Andrew

It doesn’t seem that long ago since I last passed Andrew on the hiking path. But it’s been years since we met and years since I last saw him. And I am not sure, exactly, why I’m thinking about him today.  Well, I guess  I do. Today would have been his 85th birthday. It still may be, I don’t know, I haven’t seen him in months.

Since it was first built, I’ve been walking the wooden boardwalk that winds through a beautiful forest. While it seems to be fairly new, it was built over 10 years ago. Before its construction, I used to walk on the dirt path that wound its way through the dense woods. Many times I tripped over a vine or a branch, but being a younger version of myself, no bones were broken and no damage was done.

And before I get back to Andrew, I want to tell those of you who don’t know about my dedication to walking, I think walking has saved my life.  I’ve been walking daily for almost 15 years. Ever since I realized that my 18-year-old mind resides in a 70+-year-old body – replete with 70+ year-old ailments, aches, and other foibles.

I walk when it’s 95 degrees (that’s Fahrenheit for those of you who are Celsius-cetric) and I walk when it’s zero. I walk in the wind, in the rain, in the fog, in the drizzle, in the snow…  I walk because I am afraid… afraid of what will happen to my creaky old body – not to mention my erratic old heart – if I should stop walking.  My cardiologist once told me that walking is keeping me out of the hospital. Anything that keeps me out of the hospital is a good thing. Anything that keeps me above ground is a good thing.

Most every day I walk through the woods on the now-weathered wooden boardwalk, I’ll admit that sometimes, out of the need for a little variety, I walk a different route, but most of the time I love the smell, the feel, and the comfort of the woods.

A few years ago, I noticed that I was passing the same older guy just about every day.  We’d say “Hi” and wave as we passed;  just two old codgers, spending time in their “golden” years trying to get some exercise.

I got to thinking after passing the guy every day, maybe I should stop and talk to him – certainly pausing for a few brief moments during my walk would not endanger my old creaking body or shorten my life by much. What’s a few minutes in a lifetime of minutes?

His name, I learned, was Andrew. He was not married. He loved to watch Hallmark and Lifetime Movies (I tried hard not to react) and he never cooked. Indeed, he ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner at the same restaurant day after day after day.

For some reason, I had him pegged as a retired General Motors executive with IRAs and 401 (k) s.  He certainly couldn’t be eating breakfast, lunch, and dinner out every day on the Social Security dole.

From that day on, every day, when we’d pass on the boardwalk, we’d stop and chat for a few minutes. I made him laugh because I’m known for saying quirky things that make people wonder about my sanity.

Makes me wonder too.

I think he enjoyed having someone to talk to, despite my penchant for saying wacky, off-the-wall things. He would look at me and smile when I said something completely weird, which was fairly often because I don’t like small talk or being too serious. After all, life’s a short ride.

After months of having him pegged as a GM Executive with a pension and all kinds of portfolios, IRAs, and 401Ks, I worked up the nerve to ask him what he did for a living before he retired.

After saying all kinds of weird, off-the-wall, and quirky things to the guy for months, I learned he was a Catholic priest. Thank God, I didn’t say tell him any dirty jokes or say anything too “off-color” if you know what I mean.

But just to be on the safe side, because you never know when the plug may get pulled, I asked the Father to bless me.

I said to Father Andrew… “Can you give me a good blessing right here in the woods, because I sure need it!” and I was not lying. To my surprise, he did. He blessed me. He made the sign of the cross and blessed me right there on the wooden boardwalk, in the middle of the woods. It was like going to church while dressed in a ratty pair of old tattered shorts and my “Synonym Rolls, Just Like Grammar Use to Make” T-shirt.

To make a long story, even longer, today would have been (or is) Father Andrew’s 85th birthday. I didn’t see him on the path today. I haven’t seen him on the path since March. Maybe I’m morose and lugubrious, but at his age, you never know.

Heck, at my age, you never know.

Perhaps he simply adjusted his walking time. However, his habit has always been to walk after breakfast, after lunch, and after dinner.

My walks are subject to my working hours. Yes, I’m old, but still working because I’m broke.  Despite writing amusing and sometimes thought-provoking essays, I am old and broke. 

But I don’t mind, I wouldn’t want to sit around and watch Hallmark Movies every day. I like working on computers, writing silly essays like this one, and staying busy.

Anyway, if Father Andrew still walks among us – Happy Birthday, Father!  If not, then I’m fairly certain I know where he is, and I’m sure he’ll have a very happy birthday.

I wish he would bless me at least one more time – just to be on the safe side.