Farewell Art...here's one for you.

As I began to think about how to start writing this post it occurred to me I don't even know Art's last name. Doesn't matter really. Art was a 78 year-old Korean War veteran, with a long history of traveling the world as an Air Force consultant and civil planner. He frequently came to It's A Grind for a cup of coffee, bought to him in a real mug. Sometimes it was to meet his friend and talk politics, taxes and simpler times. Often it was alone. He would sit, with his cane straddled one leg, looking out into the parking lot as he drank. Never giving away the thoughts in his head as he sat there. He told me once that he only comes out when his wife is busy doing something else keeping her from thinking he has too much fun without her.

We met a couple of months ago. It was a crowded morning. I usually sit on the bench with one single small table as my desk. This particular morning I sat in the large chairs because there was no other place to sit. I feel like a jerk being that one guy taking up four seats. Art asked to sit at one of the chairs. I said, "Of course", from then to now we ended up somewhere between acquaintances and friends.

He reminded me a lot of my dad from the Korean war to his bad heart keeping steady with an implanted defibrillator. It was the depression era disposition and attitude which made him like my father. I understood him, I'm not sure he understood me. Along with this 30's generation comes massive self-reliance. He didn't have a compartment for a guy like me. First, I am pastor. That alone flew right by him. Secondly, giving up what seems like everything to start a new church, was stupid in his mind. He listened but not without his internal criticism, which made no difference to me. I enjoyed our talks.

The last time we talked. He said he was was falling more often. He refused to use a walker, I would too. It's been a week since I have seen him here. I found out this morning he had a bad fall last week and broke his neck. I guess there was nothing the doctors could do except keep him stable and comfortable. This was going to be his end. Five minutes after hearing about his fall, his friend came in to tell the girls behind the counter Art died early this morning. It hit me like bricks.

Lot's of things went through my mind. I thought about how life is fragile. I thought it wasn't suppose to go down like this. What a random way to end. There will be no more talks. Then I thought I wouldn't be able to talk about the gospel. I wanted to. I asked him a few questions but I didn't intentionally lead him to the cross. Then I thought, bummer, I wish I would have.

Today feels different. I usually drink tea. Right now I'm have a cup of coffee for Art. Art, your missed. It was short. Thanks for asking to sit that day.