A couple days back, Rose passed at the facility. She was only 87. That used to mean something to me, but unless a person is in their mid 90's anymore, I don't pay much attention. I didn't know her very well. But Rose knew me. Every time I walked down the hall I was a different man in her life. I was Bill, her husband who had passed 8 years before. I was her son, Robert who never came home from Vietnam. I was her brother Jim, who never came home from France in WW2. Being the only white, male in the facility, I was many people to Rose at different times. I would kneel before her wheelchair for a couple of minutes and be whomever she wanted me to be right then. She would say over and over, all day and night, " Please, help me " like a tortured mantra. Rose, you were our #1 pick of the person who needed to move on next. You did during your afternoon nap, as peacefully as they get. I went in to give her last respects and it was the first time I ever saw a smile on her face........
I sold real estate in the city with the largest concentration of Arabs in the USA. Many of the old-time agents would not work with them. Arabs drove a hard bargain. I was forced to, as I was a newcomer to the city and had no 'sphere of influence', as they like to say in real estate. I actually melded great with their style of business, made many connections, and did very well courting them. They had money, were smart, and came to the party ready to deal. I also had many conversations with them about the never-ending conflicts in the Middle East. There was a reason they were now living in Detroit. The major lesson I came away with was there was no clear cut right and wrong in the Middle East. I see the FB posts all day taking partisan sides as usual, from the safety of a padded office chair sitting in front of a computer. The usual mass media suspects are also lining up with their patented brands of distorted, one-sided propaganda of either 'Jew bad/Arab good' or '
Comments
Post a Comment