Crazy Eccentric Dave
I met Dave at church. I was a little late, and I didn’t sit where I usually do. During the opening songs, a much older gentleman came up the aisle and almost collapses onto the seat next to me. I help him get settled with his jacket. He smiles at me, and I smile back. He touched my hand, and said it was great to see me.
Maybe I had met him before? I usually remember faces, but didn’t remember this one. He had a kind face, the one that you feel comfortable around and one that you can trust. At a few times during the sermon, he would squeeze my hand.
After the service, he asked if he could “buy” me a cup of coffee in the atrium. I didn’t have anywhere pressing to be, so I said yes. We slowly walked to a table with our coffee. I learned that his name was Dave. He lived in a senior home a few miles away, and while he usually comes to the earlier service, he said he had to come to the later one today because he just couldn’t get out of bed. Too comfy, he said.
Dave said that everyone at church knew him as “Crazy Eccentric Dave.” When I asked why, he said it was because he is a little crazy, but he embraces it. He doesn’t care what others think and enjoys life to the fullest. He just bought a convertible – so unpractical, he mentioned – but he enjoyed driving it and didn’t have much time left here anyhow.
Dave asked about my life. He spoke to me like we were old friends – how is your marriage? He asked. I didn’t tell him I was married, and wasn’t wearing my ring because of a recent injury to my finger. I was honest with him, and I had no reason to be so honest. I didn’t know him, and maybe it was the environment we were in or that I was in a vulnerable state. I told Dave how I was actually unhappy and there was a lot of negativity in my marriage.
Dave understood, and told me he had been married twice. He got out of his first marriage because it was toxic, and had met his second wife shortly after – a divine intervention, perhaps. She was his true love, and they spent the rest of their lives exploring together. She recently passed, and his heart was broken.
Dave asked me why I was staying in a relationship that made me so unhappy. Before I could say why, he took the words right from my mouth – “Your son, right?” Well, yes. How did he know I had a son? But it was the truth. I didn’t want my son to come from a broken family.
Dave and I explored this topic for a while. How was putting my happiness on the back burner healthy for my son? How was the treatment I was receiving from the man I married healthy for my son to see? Dave opened my eyes to a lot, and he was able to share his experiences to really hit his points home.
Soon Dave said he had to go – he couldn’t miss the Sunday lunch at the senior home. Dave said he reminded him so much of a younger version of his second wife, and that he knew I would make the right decisions in my life. That I would find someone who would make me truly happy. Dave said he would see me next Sunday, in the same spot we sat today.
I never saw Dave again. I looked for him and his crazy white hair and kind face. But week after week, I did not see him. He left such an impression on my heart. I feel that he was sent from God to help me see the truth. To help me realize what needed to happen in my life.
That was the summer of 2017, and less than a year later I was on my way to a happier version of myself. I truly, deeply believe that Dave was meant to come into my life and I will never forget that conversation.