I believe God brings the right people into our lives at the right time, so I have a story to tell:
Â
A dark blue one-ton Dodge dually with a big enclosed trailer pulls in along the edge of the parking lot. It has the car wash attendant’s attention.
Â
He watches the man open the door of the trailer and lower the ramp.
Â
The attendant walks over and sees the man untying a big motorcycle. “Thought you were unloading a horse!”
Â
No comment.
Â
“Well, it’s a ride, anyway.”
Â
The man gets on the motorcycle, cranks it up, and pulls it into the first bay.
Â
The attendant, once a motorcyclist, says, “It’s an Indian!”
Â
“Yep, friends ride Harleys, but not me. I ride an Indian. And tomorrow I’m taking my bride for her last ride. She loved this bike. I don’t want it to be dusty. Going to have a memorial service for her tomorrow.”
Â
He begins to reach for coins.
Â
“Wait, this one is on me,” says the attendant.
Â
“You don’t have to. . . .”
Â
“No, I want to. . . .”
Â
The attendant backs away, letting the man wash, rinse, dry his bike in peace.
Â
Next, the attendant walks over and says, “Sorry for your loss. What happened?”
Â
“Cervical cancer. Can’t catch that with a mammogram, you know. You have to have a blood test. If you have a woman you love, tell her to get tested.”
Â
The attendant told him that his wife had breast cancer six years ago and gets her blood tested yearly.
Â
“Good,” said the man. “Never caught hers in time. Stage 4 when we caught it. She didn’t last long. Hard to watch her die.”
Â
He went on, “You know, the hardest part was that she and her sons from a previous marriage hadn’t spoken in two years. We sent word to them of her sickness. One did not respond. The other one came in the house saying, 'When you die, I want this and that. . .' She looked at me and said, 'You need to go to the workshop. I got this.'”
Â
“You know, I don’t care to give them old photos, a few things, but I’ll do it on my time, not theirs.”
Â
The attendant asked, “They coming to the service tomorrow?”
Â
“Yeah, the mouthy one is in town.”
Â
The attendant smiles and says, “Well, if he starts anything, why don’t you just take him out behind the workshop?”
Â
The man grins, “I won’t have to. My buddies who ride Harleys will take care of things.”
Â
He continues, “Her family is in Pennsylvania. She wants to be buried in Pennsylvania. After the service, I’ll take her there.”
Â
“You taking her on the bike?”
Â
“No, long way to ride this late in the year. It can snow out there before Thanksgiving. I really don’t know if I’ll take her before it snows or if I’ll wait until Spring.”
Â
“Well, she won’t mind either way,” says the attendant.
Â
“No, she won’t mind either way.”
Â
A quiet moment.
Â
The man got back on the bike, ready to put it back into the trailer. He stuck his hand out saying, “Thank you. Appreciate you.”
Â
The attendant watches him close the trailer, step up into the cab of his truck, look back toward the office and wave. The attendant waves back.
Â
A handshake. A wave. You may have to know where to look, but they are out there.
Â
Slowly the man pulls the rig out of the parking lot.
Â
My appreciation to each of you,
Â
Pat Durmon
patdurmon.com
Â

Photo by Brad Elbrader of his bike in Southern Utah.
Recent Posts
Archive
Tags