Today is my off Monday (I get every other Monday off) so I washed some clothes this morning. I won't get a chance this week and on Saturday I should be going to Providence Rhode Island.
Normally the laundry room downstairs is almost empty during the morning and today was no exception. The only other person down there for a while was an older West Indian woman in her 50s. She was drying her clothes when I got there. We didn't say anything to each other until she was almost ready to leave. Then she approached me as I was sitting down.
"Excuse me, I haven't seen that gentleman around lately".
"Pardon"
"There was a gentleman who would come down with you sometimes. The older gentleman"
"Yes?"
"Was that your father?"
"Oh, yes"
"Oh I remembered an older gentleman but I hadn't seen him in a while..."
"Yes that was my father"
"Is he ok or.."
"No. He passed away in March"
"Oh I am so sorry to hear that. I THOUGHT I had seen a picture of him earlier this year but I wasn't sure".
"Yes, he passed away. He hurt himself late last year and was in a rehab facility. Unfortunately he had a heart attack in March and passed away".
The lady apologized again, packed her laundry and eventually left. From time to time I still get condolences from neighbors and it's been seven months. It doesn't bother me. In fact I am pleased that so many people knew him or knew of him and they felt compelled to approach me. There are people I hardly know who will speak to me regarding Dad. That shows the impact he had. He left his mark and I can only hope I can do the same in my life.
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