A LITTLE STORY

I arrived at the address that requested the ride and pressed my horn to indicate my arrival. Since this was going to be the last ride of my shift, I contemplated driving off as there was no response from the rider. One last attempt maybe and this yielded a response. ‘I am coming’, says an elderly voice sounding out of breath. The door opened up, it was an elderly man in his late 80’s or 90’s with a big suitcase almost half his height. That explains the labored breath, I thought to myself.

A quick glimpse of the apartment showed an almost empty space. Maybe he had a van come earlier to cart his furniture and other personal items. I then put his suitcase in the car then went back to help him into the vehicle. ‘Oh, you’re such a good boy,’ he said. He kept thanking me for my kindness. ‘I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want to be treated’, I said.

When we got in the cab, he gave me an address and then asked if we could take the long route. I mentioned to him that it was not the shortest way to get there. I looked into my rear view mirror and there were tears in his eyes. He told me he was not in any hurry, he had no family left and he was going to the hospice. ‘The doctor says I don’t have very long.’

I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

For the next couple of hours, I drove him round the city. He showed me the place he lived with his wife, where he worked for over 30 years, where the famous ice cream parlor was when he was a teenager and the arcade he and his friends used to spend hours at as teenagers.

Sometimes he’d ask me to stop for a few minutes in front of the park, an alley or a building and just reminisce saying nothing. A stray smile or a tear, reactions to whichever memory he was replaying in the moment.

Sometimes he would just shake his head and mutter, ‘Life.’

The sun began setting on the horizon and that seemed to draw him back to reality as he said, ‘I’m tired. Let’s go now.’

Driving in silence to the address, I wondered about the cycle of life. We are born. We die.

The hospice was a two story building painted in three shades of brown. A small park was beside it and a driveway at the front.

As I parked out front, an orderly and a nurse came out to my car. Their eyes were very observant of the man, watching for anything.

I opened the trunk and brought out his suitcase taking it to the door where he was already seated in a wheelchair.

‘How much do I owe you?’ He asked, reaching for his wallet. I simply told him he owed me nothing. He tried to give me something but I continued to refuse him. Instinctively, I gave him a hug which seemed to linger. I stepped back, squeezed his hand and watched them wheel him in.

I picked up no more passengers throughout the next day as I had driven around aimlessly once I left the hospice. I was deep in thought. On reflecting, I do not think that I have done anything more important in my life. We are taught from are formative years that life revolves around great, big bang moments but sometimes moments come as quietly as the one experienced the evening before.

This statement kept coming to mind, ‘PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT YOU DID, OR WHAT YOU SAID BUT THEY WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM FEEL.’ I do not know who said it, but the person must have had a great many beautiful moments.

‘Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we are here we might as well dance.’

The nature of human beings is affected by so many factors; internal and external. It is however important to learn to drown out the noise so one can identify the important things.