This post, I originally wrote on April 12, 2011, on my now-private blog that I used in college. So it’s a three-year throwback. :) I hope you enjoy it.
“I have a new Grandpa!”
12 APR 2011
Today, a Tuesday, April 12, 2011.
I have a new Grandpa. His name is Woody. He cleans about five buildings at a university in the South of America. He collects the trash. He carries around keys, so many, that he says when he went to see his supervisor the other day, they weighed him down so much that she asked why he was stumped over, to which he replied, it’s all these keys!
He asked my name and how many years I had left here. He asked what I wanted to do, where I was from, and if I had a boyfriend. The only certain answer to any of those being where I was from: Cherryville. He said he knew a student from here about nine years ago who was from Cherryville. The student was going to be a pastor. He had a girlfriend who broke up with him, then married him a year later, and “what do you think about that?” I said, “I think that’s odd.” He said maybe.
He told me he collects the trash and cleans Noel Hall, Communications building, this building, the Chapel, and another I cannot remember now. “Too many for an old man.” he says. He is almost 81 years old.
He has worked for Gardner-Webb for 18 years. He says he loves meeting people as he works. That’s the best thing about his job, he says, meeting people like me.
He liked my name, said it wasn’t very common, but a pretty name.
And he told me when he was 21, what he wanted to do, his dream-he said I wouldn’t believe it-and then he pointed to a poster on the wall behind him: a bullfighter jumping over a charging bull. Feria de Nimes. The fair at Nimes, where people come not only for the bullfights, but for the party, the music, the people they meet there. That’s what Woody wanted to be. A bullfighter.
He said he knew a woman, who became a bullfighter. She was successful. He couldn’t remember her name, though he said he ought to. Hard to get insurance for that, wouldn’t it be? I agree.
Before he goes, he tells me God loves me, he loves me, the best thing he likes to tell people about is Jesus. Once again, I agree. I tell him I hope he has a good day. He tells me the same. “You can tell people you have a new Grandpa now, Woody is your grandpa” he says. Because when he asked me how many grandpas I had, I only have one. Now, he says, you have me too.