The Human Experience: the Lives that We Touch

I remember well the first day I met Lee--a tall, slender, elderly man who walked with a cane and was never without his baseball cap, or the occasional beanie when the weather was chilly. He was a patient at the dialysis center where I took my mother three times a week.

Those were some early mornings as I'd jump out of bed at 4:00 am to take Mom for her treatments, before she started driving again. And Lee always drove himself to the center and always parked in the stall next to the first handicapped space, nearest the entrance.

He was a quiet, soft-spoken man with a watchful eye. I remember there was "something" about him, and his eyes drew me to him. What started out as a casual smile and a "Good Morning," as we walked past him, grew into what I felt was a deeper kinship and respect.

Lee would watch as I entered the doors of the center, loaded up with Mom's blankets and coffee, pushing her in a wheel chair, passing by his seat to the scale we'd go. As Mom's recovery progressed, she graduated to the use of a walker, and finally she became strong enough to use only her cane. Always catching a glimpse of Lee, I set up the blankets on Mom's chair, and helped the technicians by setting up Mom's station.

Our first conversation started with the extension of my hand and saying, "Good morning!" I still remember the warmth that enveloped me when I met him. I looked forward to each Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Even with the early schedule, there was an opportunity to bring a smile to his face, and for me to be filled with a sense of warmth and compassion for this man.

Over time, many of the conversations I had with Lee never failed to include a comment about what a lovely woman I was or how it warmed his heart to see how well I took care of my mother. As I look back today, he gave me the gift of knowing a sense of a "fatherly approval" for which I will be eternally grateful.

Once Mom started driving again, my days spent with Lee diminished, except for the occasional Saturday morning when I met Mom at the center before she was done with her dialysis. I watched Lee's face light up when I walked into the room and stopped to say, "Hello." And he warmed my heart each time with his gentle smile, and his humble boy-like awkwardness, causing him to stutter as he spoke.

Today Mom and I found out that Lee passed away three days ago. I spent the best part of the morning crying over this man who, in a mere year, touched my heart.

It is said that all things happen for a reason. If it had not been for my mother's kidney failure, my life would never have been touched by knowing him. He became a part of me, we were tied together by the illness he had in common with my mother and that drew us all to that center.

Lee Blackmon, I pray you found peace. Thank you for being the wonderful, caring man who, in my absence, extended your hand to help my mother, and offered her kind words and the warmth of your gentle smile.

I will miss you...and the genuine connection we shared.