My grandfather visited me last night. He was sitting on the radiator in the lobby of my building, smoking a cigarette. I was bringing down bags of magazines for recycling."Is that garbage?" he asked.
I stared at him. He looked like a bum. I'd never seen this man here before. He acted like he owned the lobby.
"Yeah..." I responded cautiously, not sure who I was talking to but he'd said it with such authority. I felt so very addressed.
"Just leave it there, I'll take care of it," he motioned with his hand, a sureness in his tone. He seemed to know his way around and he was offering to help me out. He began to explain that he works for the super, and takes care of our garbage on Mondays, Wednesday and Thursday. His usual time is in the mornings but his other buildings got backed up today, with it being a holiday (it was President's Day, the day after Valentine's Day). So he's here later than usual today.
I shrug, smile vaguely, and go back upstairs. I feel strangely visited. Then Randy and I return, dragging an old ugly armchair down the stairs. The old man is still sitting on the radiator. Again, he motions and says assuredly,
"Just leave it there, I'll get it."
Randy glares at him suspiciously and growls, "I'd appreciate if you don't smoke in this lobby, man."
Suddenly I feel protective. I quickly explain "it's alright, he takes out the garbage. He works for Jose." As we go back upstairs I can hear him dragging the chair out to the street. I am bothered by what just happened. If this is my grandfather visiting me in my own lobby, then I want to make him feel welcome and appreciated. He has never come this close to where I live before. I feel honored.
I go back downstairs with another bag or two as an excuse to see the garbage man again. I am relieved when he is still there and I talk to him about his work for awhile.
"What's your name?" I finally ask, wanting to be personal and friendly.
"Ceasar" he replies. I thank him for his work, looking him straight in the eye and go back upstairs, feeling much better.
The next day, my sister came to visit me with presents and we had a nice, brief chat. We have been estranged for many months.
In the days prior, Randy and I had been spacing clearing our office, laying down a new rug and throwing away clutter. Perhaps this opened up channels of energy for my grandfather and my sister to come visit me. They have been going hand in hand these past few years.
I feel my grandfather watching over us. Whereas we used to carry him around, as a vehicle for survival, he is now able to support and help us. I wonder if this is as close as he will come. Each time my grandfather comes closer to me, the safer I feel and the more certain I am ready to move on. This place has been a long stop over for me. A safe haven, but not a home. It's a dangerous, confusing world out there. As I make sense of it, and feel safer in it, I can let go and venture out into it. My grandfather tells me it is ok now to move on.