Meeting Louie

Sometimes it's all too easy to plough through life, focused on ourselves, always looking inward, oblivious to anything or anyone but ourselves.  I like to think I'm not one of those self centred people, but if the truth be told, I think we're all guilty of being a little self absorbed now and again.  But it's the small things that remind us to step back and look around us.  I was fortunate enough to have one of those moments on my walk home from work today.

There I was striding along Lincoln Road, as I do, checking my phone as a walked, thinking about what needed to be done when I get home.  As I pass a bus stop I barely even notice a person is on the seat in the shelter, it's only as I walk on past I hear a shaky voice, call out "excuse me." I turn to see a short stocky, snowy bearded elderly gentleman resting on the bench.  Immediately this softly spoken accented voice asks "Please dear, would you mind helping me up, I have vertigo" as I bend to help this gentleman to his feet, his immediate concern is for me, not to strain myself.

As he shakily gets to his feet, and we start towards the corner, he very quickly is holding my hand, (I've not been this lucky in a very long time) My new bearded beau tells me he lives just down the next road and around the corner, and if I can just see him to the corner and help him cross the road he will be fine.  We start a slow steady shuffle, my new friend alternates his weight between my arm and his cane, before I know it, we are chatting like old friends.

I soon learn that this handsome old gentleman is Louie Taylor, Louie is 85 and has recently suffered two strokes.  He proudly tells me that in his homeland of Hungry he was a school teacher, and it was only under the threat of jail due to his rebellion against the communist government that saw him escape to Austria, but not before a lengthy trek through Czechoslovakia.  Now I'm not great on geography, but even to me that sounds like a bloody long walk.

It becomes evident Louie may have escaped the communist regime of 1970's Hungry but he still has a fierce pride for his birth place, as he proudly tells me that Hungry has won two medals at the Olympics today.

We've long since made it to the corner, and crossed the road, by now twenty minutes have passed, and we're standing outside Louie's humble abode, we've cleared the letter box and are slowly making our way up the path, he fumbles for his keys, and pulls out a keyring and he shows me a pretty little trinket attached to it, and with a tear in his eye, he tells me "this was my wife's key ring you know." He's so lovely, so trusting, but very lonely I think.  Once he finally gets the door open, we are standing in a small lounge, it's warm, tidy and totally dominated by what can only be described as a massive television set.  With a lot of difficulty but an obvious tried and tested technique Louie kicks off his trendy Saucony sneakers and slips into a pair of comfy old khaki Crocks.

After I've turned on the lights and just as I'm getting ready to leave, he invites me to stay, "I have to go" I tell him, I need to get my daughter's dinner.

But as I leave I'm a hundred times more satisfied with my day, than I had been thirty minutes beforehand, all the while Louie is thanking me for helping him, but I really think I should be the one doing the thanking.

"Will you come back?" he asks,
 "I would love to" I reply

So it's official, I have a "date" on Saturday morning, banana loaf and coffee with Louie, his departing words, "you can bring your daughter if you like."

Bless you Louie
Asante.