In college, I lived as close to campus as I could without living in the dorms. Just minutes away, I'd always walk to and from class, coming home sometimes between classes for lunch or to change my shirt, grab a book or notebook I needed for class.
In the evening, walking back from the day's hustle of university life, I'd pass by this old yellow house. At the time, an older man and his wife lived there. They usually had a few cats and a dog about in the yard while he worked in the shed out in the backyard. I always smiled at him as I passed. A few times we'd say hello and once awhile we'd talk about how our day had been and what we had done.
I cannot remember what his name was or anything else like that but I just remember how nice he was and how much I valued that time passing by seeing him at work in his yard, at different times of the year whether it be the coolness of early winter evenings or the early warmth of spring.
A few years back when I was freshly returned to Ashland, I happened to pass by again and saw him once more in his yard, this time much older and moving slower, bent over that much more. I stopped again and told him how I remembered him from my college days, how I always loved this house, and held a fondness for the days I would pass by after school in the evenings.
He smiled and invited me in to show me around his old house, that had been in the family for years. He showed me the original oven and the rooms. We sat and talked before I had to continue my journey home. It was a moment of peace during a time of my life that was in beginning the road to emotional upheaval, when I was trying to cling to any sense of normalcy I could.
About a week ago, I happened to walk by and noticed the "For Sale" sign on the door. My heart broke a little, knowing I would never see him again out in his yard working away, never stop to smile, and chat about the day.
Thus ends a chapter of my life. You never know who or what will make a difference in your life, shape your heart.
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