As I stood near my car Tracy walked towards me. She said the words and we hugged.
I knew it might happen this week. I knew he might get the call to go to the new job in Chicago. But I wasn't going to react until I knew for sure. The tears started to well in the corners of my eyes.
What can I say about the angel that helped me walk again? How can I describe a friendship that symbolized healing, humour, laughter, kindness, rehabilitation?
Two years ago I was in a state: taking maximum doses of 3 pain killers, using a cane (not at work...didn't want my employers to see how bad it was) and always scoping out the nearest chair as I walked. And then I found the next step in this pathway to healing.
For two years Sidiki has guided me to improve my mobility, encouraged me when I was discouraged, listened patiently through all my troubles and setbacks. And made me laugh. Oh boy how we laughed. I have nearly spit out my water on the carpet numerous times.
Like when he imitates my expression during my workout. (My eyes don't really roll back in my head!). Or during a recitation of a Seinfeld episode, or Cosby episode, or Seinfeld comedy routine, or movie....or....you get the idea. We both have watched a lot of TV and movies. But Sidiki remembers them WORD FOR WORD. And me? With my memory it's like I'm hearing it for the first time. I laugh. And spit my water out.
Some call him "Sid", some call him "Deek". I call him "My son". He calls my daughter "Sis" and calls me "MumZ". For a short while we all lived on the same street, just blocks apart, and didn't realize it.
Once, when calling a number for an apartment, Sidiki dialed our number by mistake. He didn't even know our number, yet he called it. I tell you that to illustrate how connected we are, and always will be, for what he has done for me. Even though he will never again be part of my favorite days.
Funny thing about feeling connected with Sidiki. It seems that is generally the effect he has on many people. There were others who got a little emotional about our loss. The tears flowed as I heard these words:
Personable, kind, gentle, funny, stylish, smart. And I've heard he makes some mean, good tasting chicken. What's not to love.
Because I call him "son", you know I want for him exactly what all mothers want for their children: all the very best this world has to offer. Truthfully, he has much to offer this world.
Chicago is a very lucky city.
And me? I'll keep working at mobility with the wonderful ones who are left. I noticed my cane in the back of the car. Can't remember the last time I used it.
He's gone.
I knew it might happen this week. I knew he might get the call to go to the new job in Chicago. But I wasn't going to react until I knew for sure. The tears started to well in the corners of my eyes.
What can I say about the angel that helped me walk again? How can I describe a friendship that symbolized healing, humour, laughter, kindness, rehabilitation?
Two years ago I was in a state: taking maximum doses of 3 pain killers, using a cane (not at work...didn't want my employers to see how bad it was) and always scoping out the nearest chair as I walked. And then I found the next step in this pathway to healing.
For two years Sidiki has guided me to improve my mobility, encouraged me when I was discouraged, listened patiently through all my troubles and setbacks. And made me laugh. Oh boy how we laughed. I have nearly spit out my water on the carpet numerous times.
Like when he imitates my expression during my workout. (My eyes don't really roll back in my head!). Or during a recitation of a Seinfeld episode, or Cosby episode, or Seinfeld comedy routine, or movie....or....you get the idea. We both have watched a lot of TV and movies. But Sidiki remembers them WORD FOR WORD. And me? With my memory it's like I'm hearing it for the first time. I laugh. And spit my water out.
Some call him "Sid", some call him "Deek". I call him "My son". He calls my daughter "Sis" and calls me "MumZ". For a short while we all lived on the same street, just blocks apart, and didn't realize it.
Once, when calling a number for an apartment, Sidiki dialed our number by mistake. He didn't even know our number, yet he called it. I tell you that to illustrate how connected we are, and always will be, for what he has done for me. Even though he will never again be part of my favorite days.
Funny thing about feeling connected with Sidiki. It seems that is generally the effect he has on many people. There were others who got a little emotional about our loss. The tears flowed as I heard these words:
He was like my best friend.
I just met him and already I loved him.
Personable, kind, gentle, funny, stylish, smart. And I've heard he makes some mean, good tasting chicken. What's not to love.
Because I call him "son", you know I want for him exactly what all mothers want for their children: all the very best this world has to offer. Truthfully, he has much to offer this world.
Chicago is a very lucky city.
And me? I'll keep working at mobility with the wonderful ones who are left. I noticed my cane in the back of the car. Can't remember the last time I used it.
