A Good Man

I write today to acknowledge a truly good man. He will never read this and in some ways I find that fitting. The reason he won't read is not because he is gone, it is simply that technology is not something he partakes of. He, like my mom, bemoaned the demise of Analog phone service, he doesn't email or Facebook or any of the other things I find myself so increasingly centered in. He would probably be embarrassed by my words because he never did any of the things I will acknowledge for any reason other than to help.
Ivan was my mother's very special friend. They began keeping company when mom moved to Arkansas. He drove that long drive from Stinnett to Fort Smith usually once a month for the sheer pleasure of being with my mom. It was her great worry over his being on the road so much that played a large part in her returning to Texas a decade ago. They probably didn't see each other much more than they did when she lived here.But, he didn't have as far to travel and that was easier on him and alleviated worry on my mother's part.
Their association was probably exhausting for Ivan. Mom kept him very busy when he visited. And there was no task that he didn't consider himself "up" for. I think she even had him on the roof once. He built things, fixed things, took her places and loved her. I'm sure the love they shared wasn't the mushy, cow eyes and PDA love that most of us would recognize. Their expression of affection was a quick and to the point "Love you" and "Love you too". Period. But that they loved each other I have never doubted.
I often wondered why they never made that step toward being permanently committed to each other. But that independent and fiery spirit that burned in mom, was probably mirrored in Ivan and they both wanted to maintain their own space.
While I was moving my mom's stuff in December in preparation for moving her to Arkansas, Ivan was the rock I leaned on. I would never have been able to do what I did without his help. I told him once we should start our own moving company: OLD FARTS MOVING COMPANY - "we won't get you there fast, but we might die trying."
It was during this difficult month that I came to understand and appreciate what it was about him that my mom treasured. I should backtrack here and confess that I wasn't always as kind to Ivan as I should have been. In fact I resented the hell out of him because of the spot he claimed in my mother. I will always be regretful and embarrassed for those feelings. He didn't deserve my scorn and I am heartily ashamed of myself. Fortunately, I have shared my feelings of shame and remorse with Ivan and he accepted my apology with all the grace a true gentleman possesses.
On the day we left Texas, he drove all the way to Amarillo to say goodbye to mom. Little did I expect that he was saying goodbye for good. I fully expected and intended to drive her to Elk City every so often to meet Ivan as he visited one of his sons. I'm sorry I didn't get to do that for both of them.
I know that as I grieve my mom, Ivan grieves as well. I hope that he can remember the last time he saw mom, with her hair all fixed, dressed in her traveling clothes, smiling and waving from the car as we pulled out of the parking lot. I am so grateful he never had to witness the last month of her life as we spent it. I want him to hold his memory of mom bright and beautiful, just as he always knew her to be.