A Parting Gift

I didn’t realise how few treats he had or how much he appreciated the things I take for granted until the day my husband and I took him to the mobility shop. His nonagenarian mother had given him the money for a super-lightweight walking aid, which he chose immediately with extreme gratitude to the shop assistant, which he then extended to his mother, us, and everyone in the church he had only recently begun to attend.

Image from “Unsplash”- not the exact model our friend bought

We took him out for tea afterwards and let him think it was his treat. I accepted the cash he gave me but didn’t tell him how much it really came to -it was Waitrose, after all!  

We had already steered him away from politics (as someone who had lived in four different unsuitable addresses in the last year he took out his frustration on “foreigners” who he also liked on an individual basis) and as he tucked into two scones piled high with jam and cream, I encouraged him to tell us about his previous jobs as a rat catcher in a bread factory, a pylon- repairer, a train driver and as a visiting carer. (He might have held other, even more interesting roles.) Happier than I had seen him for ages, he told a wonderful tale that was a far better repayment for the outing than any cash he could give us.  I should have recorded it. He described a millionaire’s mansion in vivid detail and, despite his local accent, was able to give a hilarious rendition of the owner’s way of speaking. After he had finished helping her husband lop branches off the trees in their extensive grounds (or something equally strenuous that certainly wasn’t part of his job description as a carer) the lady of the manor wouldn’t offer him a cup of tea unless he paid for it.  Later, after her husband’s sudden death, the same woman’s snobbery suddenly vanished and she confided in him as an equal that she had been unhappily married.

I wish I had known that the next time we would see him, two weeks later, he would be in hospital, on life support. He died a few days after that. I owe it to him to make something of his story, but he told it better than I ever could. Thank you Peter, for your parting gift.