"You're 'Something', Right?"

A few minutes after I got home from work last night, my wife's tenant knocked on the door to tell me that there was no heat in the front house.

To make a long story short, she had two separate technicians here till late last night, but neither could figure out what the problem was.. never mind fix it!


I ended up calling in to work and staying home in order to call yet another repairman and to be here so that I could explain what the problem was, show him where the furnace was, etc. Needless to say, I was stressing out over what this was going to cost, since we don't have any money to spend... period!

When the guy showed up, we went down into the basement of the front house, and began to converse while he worked on the problem. It took a great deal of time, and he finally thought that he had it figured out. He thought that it was the transformer that is mounted on the ceiling down there... It was my thought that the transformer had been working since long before I was born, and that it seemed strange that it would suddenly go bad... I asked if there were another transformer anywhere, and he replied that he didn't think so.


I took a look at a schematic diagram on the face plate of the unit that he was working on, and pointed out a symbol for a transformer and asked whether this was the one on the ceiling, or a different one. He stared at it for a minute or so, and then asked me if I had a flashlight... lo and behold, there was a transformer hidden back in there, and after he pulled everything out and tested it, he determined that this was where the problem was! This was good news, because had it been the other one, it would have involved about two hours or more of driving in order to get the part, and the part was expensive.

After he got everything working, we came over to the cottage to settle the bill, as we were sitting on the couch chatting while he filled out the invoice, he suddenly looked over at me and asked me, "Um... Ah.... You're, like.... something, right??"

I said, "Excuse me?" (!)


He looked around the room for a few seconds, coughed, cleared his throat, resettled himself and repeated his question, asking me if I were 'something'. He looked very earnest, and I sort of had a sense that this was important.

I cautiously pointed out that everything is something, and that I wasn't trying to be flippant or obtuse, but that I didn't exactly know what he meant by 'something'.

He shrugged and sort of tossed his head, casting about for a better way to phrase his question... then he said, "You are, or were, like a priest, or a monk... some kind of holy-man or something... aren't you?"

At this his eyes grew huge, and he looked to be about nine years old. Something was bothering him....


I replied, "Well... not exactly, but sort of.... what's on your mind?? I would be happy to help you, if I am able to... even if it's only to listen...."

He took a deep breath, sighed audibly, turned to face me full on, and announced that today was exactly one year and eight months since his mother died.

Aha...

He explained that she died of congestive heart failure at the age of 41, and that he had had to make the decision whether or not to unplug her from the life support system.

This choice had been, and still was, burdening him greatly...

We talked for a good while, and I told him about when my grandmother died, and how it affected me, and how, over the ensuing years, I have tried to come to terms with her loss...


I explained to him what my views were on death, and life, and how I try to approach these issues, and I told him that I had absolutely no answers.

I told him ways that he was carrying his mother in his heart, and that, from where I stood, it appeared to me that she did a fine job in the raising of her son.

Lastly, I told him that when he made his decision, he made the best decision that he could make at the time, and that no matter what, that this was the very most that anybody could ever do. Make the best decision that they can make under the circumstance, and with the information that they have at hand at the time.

I told him that I was certain that his mother would not want him to carry this sort of burden with him each and every day... and that if he could leave it behind, that it would leave more room to carry her in his heart.


His eyes welled up with tears, and he asked me whether I thought he had done the right thing.

I told him that just by virtue of the fact that he was as concerned about the decision this long afterwards that I was absolutely certain that he did the best that he could have done, and that that is all that is humanly possible.

I told him that this being so, that yes, I thought he had done the right thing.

He nodded, and thanked me, and turned to go. I told him that I hoped that if anyone ever had to make such a decision as this concerning me, that I hoped they would take it is seriously as he had, and that if I ever had to make such a decision that I could do at least half as good of a job of it as he had.


His face lit up in a huge smile, and he took my hand and shook it, thanking me. He held on to it for a few seconds, looked me square in the eye and said, "I knew you were something... I mean, a holy man!!, I just knew it!!"

"Really?" I asked.

"Uh-Huh!"

"How did you know?? What on earth made you think this?", I asked.

He indicated me, with a sweep of his hand, and explained with a shrug, "You just look like one!", then, turning, he left.

I stood there, in the doorway, and watched him go, trying to decide just what a holy-man looks like, or if, at least, there was a single common characteristic that identified such a person from the rest of humanity. I can't really single anything out in my mind, though I can definitely look at someone and know that they are a holy-man. It sort of irks me that I can't figure out precisely what it is that clues me in. Since that time, I have been wondering, specifically, what he ever could have seen in me that would lead him to this conclusion...I am not, in the strict sense of the world, a holy-man of any type. I have not attended a seminary, or any other meaningful, organized course of instruction. I am, however, a holy-man in a broad respect, meaning in the way that I live my life, the way that I think, the way that I feel, and the way that I view the world, deity, and my relationship with them. Even so, though, I have to say that I am completely dumfounded at this, even though this has happened to me many times in the past.

When I look in the mirror, what I see is me, nothing special, nothing sacred, nothing holy... just me; A somewhat burly forty six year old, six foot tall, 250 pound guy, with a high and tight military crew cut, two days of beard stubble, dressed in a hooded sweatshirt and jeans, sleeves pushed up to reveal arms almost covered in tattoos...

I'm not holy looking at all.

If anything, I look a little rough around the edges....I have been told that I have a rather direct, or intense gaze that some folks actually find a bit unsettling, which is sort of what I would think is the opposite to what I would expect to see in anyone that I would consider to be a holy-man.


It's extremely confusing to me, and runs absolutely against the grain, in my opinion. I'm not gentle looking, I'm not particularly handsome, and I don't exactly exude charisma.... I have a mouth like a sailor, and my hands make me look like I am a manual laborer. I can't figure this out.

I am glad that the people who need to see whatever it is can see it. I only wish that I could see whatever it is that they are looking at. I tend to think that I would take comfort in it somehow.


Well... now that I am thinking about it, I suppose the only thing that really does matter is that if I am capable of helping somebody in some way, so long as they see whatever it is that they see, whether or not there is actually anything there for them to see, or whether they are simply projecting whatever it is they need to see onto me, then it is working out the way it should and I can definitely take comfort in that!





It's still weird though... but in a good way...