Roy is from Ft Worth, Texas and he now lives much further north, but still in the south. Roy and I happened to cross paths this evening at a bar in my neighborhood. He was outgoing and friendly and he was drinking and visiting with his son. I don’t remember exactly how we met Roy, but we did. And he was open and flowing. I saw a grown man cry this evening and I was touched.
His daughter had given him five grandchildren and she lived in Texas. He bowed his head and removed his hat to express his loyalty and devotion to his home town. The story seemed to have a good start, then it took a hair pin turn into a nose dive. Turns out she had just gotten out of jail for heroin. She was unreachable and surviving on her body. It broke his heart. I can’t imagine how much love he felt as a parent.
He advised me and my friend to not do anything stupid. He reminded us that we both had daddys and we’d always be their little girls (we had to glance at each other for that one). He plead with us to take care of ourselves and be smart. It was gripping. We felt for him and encouraged him, but I don’t know if it was really possible. My friend said she wouldn’t forget him and I acknowledged this fact for myself in my head. And its true.
We three crossed paths and now I know about a human out there somewhere who is in danger. I met her father and watched him cry. She is unawares. It makes my heart beat thinking about all the people I pass every day in this city – they all have robust lives full of stories and conditions. I don’t even know Roy’s daughter’s name, but I sent her love from where I was standing in front of her father. It escapes me to conceive her life. She is younger than me and it makes my head spin to think of her life experience. I am grateful for my 20s – they have been a dream.