Man with a Cap

It is easy for me to get caught up in the world's spin of discord and angst. My Nervous Nellie nature often rolls around in it like a dog with porcupine quills in its nose. My best approach is to be judicious with my information intake. Better yet, I can make a conscious effort to look for good instead of ill will. Earth shattering thought, I know.

An event occurred a few months ago that still brings tears to my eyes and warmth to my heart. No words were spoken during the incident but the simple action of one man spoke volumes. I do not know his name and most likely never will. This post is a thank you to him.

On a cool November day of last year my family and friends said a final goodbye to my mother at her funeral. Immediately following the funeral, cars queued up to begin a slow procession to the local cemetery for a graveside service. Our town's law enforcement of one took the lead by blocking traffic at the intersections so the flow of traffic is deferred to our procession. There are no stop lights in my mom's small hometown but there is a state highway intersection that generates a bit of traffic.

The procession to the cemetery always feels somber and final to me. On-coming traffic stands still as cars pull over to the side of the road. The slow pace invokes a meditative mood, far removed from the usual urgency of rushing from points A to B. There is time to take in the environment of the moment.

As our cars neared the highway intersection, a semi-truck driver with a very large load of hay bales started pulling over to the side. As soon as the rig was stopped, a young man hopped out of the cab and immediately stood still, took off his cap and held it over his heart. I gazed at the man as we passed by and nodded my head in appreciation.

I do not know the young man's story but I can guess he had a schedule to keep with the large load he was maneuvering down the highway. Truckers are very busy folks and time is money for them. His actions told me he had a respect for others that superseded his own needs at that moment. He did not know us and he had no obligation to make any extra effort for our procession. Yet, he did.

I confess that I am not always as kind as that young man when it comes to funeral processions. When I see a queue of cars coming my way in the city, I often make a quick turn onto a side street so I can keep going my merry way. Good grief, anything short of being in the throes of birthing labor pains should not be an excuse for my behavior. When I think about the impact of the man and his cap during my time of mourning, I know the least I can do during a funeral procession passing me by is send up a prayer for the family and friends of a lost loved one.

Thank you, man with a cap. May your miles be many.