Saint Philomena,” I said. “I Looked Her Up And She's Got "Saint Cred!"

A Gift...

 Good Throwback Thursday Morning, y'all.

Continued from yesterday's Facebook post... sorta!

"Oh, by the way, Saint Philomena,” I said. “I looked her up and she's got "Saint Cred!"

"She's got what?" he asked.

After explaining my rather pithy statement to Larry, he agreed that she helped him with his mesothelioma and had credibility.

I let him talk and reiterated that IF there is a heaven and that IF there’s a hierarchy up there, that he should rank pretty high on the charts. No one deserves it more than Badass Larry!

Rick disagreed with my "Doubting Thomas" comment. We briefly got into a discussion about heaven and the hierarchy of angels.

Rick was someone I have seen over the years at GiddyUp, but seldom had much to say to him. He was a rather frail, diminutive man that always wore a bebop hat and pretty much sat alone with his coffee.

Larry decided to hit the john, and when he did, Rick told about the motorcycle accident he had as a kid in 1961 where he lost control, hit a ditch, flew into a barbed wire fence and hit his head on one of the fence posts.

Brain surgery saved his life but the physical after affects are readily apparent. To this day, Rick needs a ride to and fro and his occasionally distant stare while standing outside appears to be nothing more than him searching for his ride.

Rick seems to have, over the many years, made the necessary adjustments to survive, and I told him so. I thanked him for letting me into an important part of his life.

When Larry returned, after more discussions about theology, he invited me to come with him to his pickup truck.

"Hey, Mr. Ben, I got sumpthin' I want you to have," he said.

"Hey, c'mon man," I said. You don't owe me anything. I did you portrait 'cuz I wanted to and gave it to you 'cuz you like it!"

"No, no, that's not what I'm talking about," he said as he opened the glove compartment of his truck. It was full of little plastic cases.

He hands me this carved wooden cross encased in a plastic.

My first thought besides thank you was that I don't keep these kind of religious things around in my life. Prayer cards for your wallet, scapulas on a string for hanging on the bedpost, medals on necklaces of assorted icons, miniature rosaries and framed paintings of religious heroes are a thing of my past.

Respected, but not my kind of faith.

"I want you to have this cross to maybe carry in your briefcase or in the car," he said.

"I get them at the Abbey and give them to people I care about!"

"I told you about the Abbey and my attending my own Mass outside around the pond, right?"

"Yes, you did, but..."

"Larry, this is really sweet of you to think of me this way," I replied.

With a grin from ear to ear, he goes to great length to tell me about gift.

"This is very special and I will keep in my car to protect me from myself," I said.

"Especially nowadays since St. Christopher has lost some "Street Cred!"

We laughed as we walked back to the coffeehouse. I picked up my belongings, and with my mini-tree, said my goodbyes to the baristas, to Rick and to Larry, who decided to linger over another cup.

"You take care, now Ben," Larry said.

I smiled back at him and waved high... my wooden chaperone.

Second Giddy Up cup...

Copyright 2021/Ben Bensen III