It was the week preceding Father’s Day. I usually find this a sad time reflecting on another year without mine.
The office cleaner is South American, and cannot speak much English. It was a Friday evening, and I was working late, it was about 8:30pm, and the cleaner arrived. He’s normally smiley, but he seemed off sorts. I was packing my stuff away, his phone vibrated with a message. He looked startled. I asked him what was wrong, and he showed me his mobile. His wife was in hospital, her waters broke, she was in labour.
Immediately, I told him to leave, but he said he can’t afford not to work. I asked if it was his last job, to which he said, “yes.” Me: “Throw me your gloves, I promise to clean the office, but please go be with your family (it was his first child).” Time was of the essence, so I used my account to get him an Uber to the hospital, a bus would have taken him ages.
By the time I finished cleaning, I got home around 10pm.
When people you love leave this earth, they take pieces of our heart and soul with them. Losing someone of such great importance, like a parent, changes us as a person. I’m a lot more humble. Although losing mine was painful for me, I recall the happy memories I had, and recognise the importance of those for others.
The next time I saw the cleaner he sat down with me and showed me pictures of his new born son. We didn’t need language to communicate, his face said it all. A proud father. I smiled intently at him, grateful that his son gets to make memories with the first man that has his heart. Priceless.
Somethings in life money can’t buy…