Updated: Dec 11, 2019
New York, NY
June 7, 2011
Mr. Samuel William Eaves
Dear Mr. Eaves,
Mr. Eaves, I am writing to you today because I know the post office in Heaven is open 24/7 and God will make sure you get my letter. I was very upset when I received the news of your passing. Realistically speaking, I knew you would leave one day.
I was determined to learn to beat you more in the game of Checkers. I was like a kid on Christmas morning with my rare wins. Perhaps one day we will play again. You were a rare asset to my life. You had no idea that I needed those moments with you. You brought smiles to my face watching you at the age of ninety-two moving like a snail physically and mentally running laps like an Olympics’ track star.
I will never forget the day I was in the office pecking on the computer when my mental light went off. I asked the staff did they see you yet. It was hot as hell that day because it was a heat wave week for us. I stopped everything and ran out of the office to your apartment. I yelled your name loudly like a real ghetto child because your front window was open. Your landlady opened the door to your building and we open your apartment door. My heart sunk! You were sitting in the heat by the window asleep. Fighting the tears back, I woke you up and we went back to the senior center together. The sincerity in your voice of gratefulness was so humbling.
I did not leave work until your new air conditioner was in the window of your apartment. While going home, I listen to three voicemail messages of gratitude from your daughter. I kept thanking my mother for all her lessons about respecting my elders. I thanked God for allowing me to be there for you as well.
I needed you more than you needed me. Every day you would stop by the office before you leave to say goodbye. You never complain of anything! Your advice was the water I needed more than Poland Spring could ever give me to quench my thirst for wisdom. Your smile was like a clean glass of wine after a long day of my standing on my flat feet in dress shoes.
I will miss you physically because your handshakes were firm and confident. You were the perfect image of a gentleman. Your southern roots were my southern roots. You loved God!
For this short time of knowing you, I’m forever grateful!