2019-08-17 | Journal | Guardian Angel
Six years ago or so I was running to catch the bus and just missed it. As the bus drove away, a man in a light blue, late-eighties Thunderbird rolled up and shouted "You want to catch your bus? Get in!". I got in, and he pulled out and accelerated, swerving into the traffic to get behind the departed bus. He told me that he was disabled and no longer worked. He had neuropathy in his legs and feet and he couldn't walk well. He passed the bus and dropped me off at the next stop. I thanked him and never saw him again.
One time I noticed a Thunderbird just like his in front of a house, and thought it might be his. I thought of him like a guardian angel, and would call him that every time I passed. One time a few years later, I saw him sitting outside of his house in a chair in the sun. It was him. My guardian angel. I was timid about it. I often thought I should go up and introduce myself. "Remember me? You saved me from missing my bus. I think of you as my guardian angel." I didn't, though. Sometimes that stuff can be kind of creepy.
A couple years ago I saw him sitting in the chair and waved at him. He waved back. He slowly looked more and more feeble after that, and his car disappeared from the street. I didn't see him sitting in his chair anymore, and eventually the chair was gone. Today I walked by and thought that I would knock on the door and find out how he was doing, but the house is torn down: