Baa Baa Knit Stitch

I have a client who has been coming to see me for about five years now.  Last year he was 80.  He’s a delightful man and I’ve enjoyed every minute of talking with him and getting to know him.

Today he had an appointment with me at 2.  Now, he’s never late – as a matter of fact, he usually well ahead of schedule.  I sensed something was amiss when it was shortly after 2 and he hadn’t shown.  The phone rang and it was him… he said he was running late and was having a couple of problems, but he’d be there shortly.

10 minutes later, the phone rang again. He thought he turned the wrong way.  Could I tell him the building number again.

Another 10 minutes pass, and the phone rang again.  He was waaaay on the other end of the road away from my office – several miles out of the way.  I told him to turn around, drive straight, and look for the Chick Fil A (which is near my office) then call me again.  I was planning on going to get him.

Another 10 minutes pass.  I was starting to get concerned, because he’d had plenty of time to get to the rendezvous point.  He called, and he’d overshot the Chick Fil A and was at a drug store at the intersection of a major road.  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me” he kept repeating.   I pleaded with him to stay put and let me come to him, then I jumped in the truck and drove as quickly as I could to the drug store.  I found him sitting in his truck, very confused.

I took his tax work (just to get that off his mind), and he said his daughter would come get him, then he said he’d drive to his daughter’s house.  I told him I needed to follow him, because I’d feel really badly if something happened to him on the way.  He didn’t want to be any trouble, you see… but I told him this was for me, not him.  So he took off and I sped to keep up.  From what I saw, he really doesn’t need to be back behind the wheel.

We managed to get to his daughter’s house, and she was waiting in the yard. I got out of the truck and gave him a big hug and thanked him for letting me follow him. “I just don’t know what’s wrong with me”, he kept repeating.  His daughter said he had good days and bad… evidently this was a bad one, and it was sadly reminiscent of my mom’s battle with the onset of dementia.

My pastor preached a sermon several years ago about being the hands of God here on earth.  We hear a lot these days about taking care of your neighbor.  I’d like to think I was able to do a little of both today — because it was a good day to be self employed and have the freedom to do so.

Please keep Jack and his family in your prayers.  I’m sure they would appreciate it.