At the church waiting for a meeting that is not going to happen.
Time to get Sunday together and deal with some things.
TK is in to clean up after last night’s peace concert and live connection to Nagasaki. I try to tell him how much I admire that he was willing to take a risk to create the most extensive program he’s done in 20 years and managed to pull it off. How honored we were to be part of it. I almost wish he wouldn’t take everything away. We settle on leaving the peace cranes that dance on silver ribbons when our front door opens.
A man comes in and says there’s a guy outside in his wheel chair asking for Father Bob. I go outside and Sean is there. Wants to know how things turned out with his electric wheelchair. I call up Handyman David to find out. David S tells me that he worked long and hard on it but couldn’t get it going. He’s going to come up and work together with Sean and see what they might come up with.
Leila is outside with her brother David. He’s driven all the way from Chicago with his aunt, helping her to relocate to Woodstock. And now into the city to visit his sister. I will always remember the summer his father Samir died. (2009) The trip to the morgue for identification. The service. I admire David's athletic wrestler toughness, his compassionate teacher spirit. And his love for his sister. HGe's off to Yankee Stadium to catch a game.
(I will also always remember being called by the super to go to Samir’s apartment. Berik and Leila were in Russia. David in St.Louis. Sitting in a 90+ degree apartment, Samir a week dead on the floor. And how as we waited for the coroner to arrive, the attendant NYPD officers ordered take out Chinese for lunch. A dear friend lost for me. Another day for them.)
Leila explains why the meeting got cancelled. We talk about the timing issues with replacing Danielle and she volunteers to help out in the office until the transition can take place. Much appreciated.
Handyman David and Sean have worked for over an hour still with no success. He’s finally ready to give up. At least for today. We close up the doors. Sean starts to wheel down the street. He stops, looks over his shoulder. Straight at me. Do you still love me?, he asks.
Yes Sean, I still love you.