The road home
It was the day before Thanksgiving and a 19 year old named Kevin was racing down a back country road in a rickety old Chevy that should have found its way to the scrapyard years ago. It was not only three months since he’d been home but exactly that time since he’d even spoken to his parents. They argued a lot his senior year of high school so when it came time to pick a college Kevin chose one as far away as possible without leaving the state. No calls or text messages, not even one of those letters he’d heard old people used to send each other before smartphones came along. Total silence. Not that his parents didn’t reach out, at least once a week, to see how he was doing. He was upset so they got nothing from him. He’d thought about staying on campus for Thanksgiving but they shut almost everything down, besides he wanted to see his dog and friends and home is where they’d be.
It was roughly halfway through the 300 mile drive when he felt the car pull hard to the right and heard a strange sound. He’d driven long enough to know it was a flat tire. He was the only one on the road that cold November day so he eased the car off the shoulder to fix it. As he popped the trunk and took out the spare and the tools he noticed he’d broken down right in front of a cemetery, St. Ignatius. Weird name for a saint or a cemetery he thought to himself. He was down on one knee struggling to loosen the last lug nut when he heard a voice from behind, “Need help?” Startled, he spun his head around and through the glare of the sun behind the figure he could only make out a shadow. He stood up and adjusted his eyes to see a young man about his age in slacks and a dress shirt. “Sure man, if you don’t mind”, he said.
The two of them got that last nut to loosen and changed out the tire. “My name is Brian Mahoney”, he began. The two shook hands and Kevin asked him what he was doing out here in the middle of nowhere without a car? “Aw, just taking a walk”, he replied. The stranger on the road went on to tell a story that sounded all too familiar. “My parents and I had a disagreement. I wanted to join the military and defend our country but they wanted me to stay put. I defied them of course and went anyway.”
Kevin asked, “Are you still in the military?” Brian laughed, “Oh yeah, I don’t think you’re ever really out once you put the uniform on.” Kevin told him about the fight with his own parents and distance that had grown between them.
As they finished replacing the tire Brian offered some advice, “Look, you don’t have to listen to me but all this crap with your mom and dad forget it. Life is short. Forgive each other. My parents and I made up and I’m so glad. It’s important, especially this time of year.” Kevin shook his hand a second time and as he drove away thought about what the stranger said.
A few miles down the road Kevin realized his hands were filthy from changing the tire so when he saw a diner ahead so he pulled off to wash his hands and grab a cup of coffee. As he sat at the counter in the diner he spied some beautiful pies in the glass case and decided to get one to bring home to his folks. He took out his cell phone and for the first time in three months called home. His dad answered and just hearing his voice made him choke back tears. “Hey pops. I’m... I’m sorry about everything. I’m coming home.” His dad told him it was OK and then put his mom on the phone. The three of them spoke for a while and Kevin told them he’d be home in a couple hours.
The woman behind the counter was about his mom’s age and as she brought him the fresh apple pie and the check Kevin glanced casually over her shoulder to a photo on the shelf surrounded by candles. It was Brian the kid he’d just met on the road. “Hey I know him”, he said out loud pointing to the picture. The woman seemed confused. She asked how Kevin, given his age, could know her son? He explained that when his car got a flat tire just an hour earlier near the cemetery Brian helped him out and gave him some good advice. The woman squeezed his hand and said, “That’s not possible dear. My Kevin has been dead 14 years. He joined the Marines right after 9-11 and was killed in a roadside bomb in Iraq. He’s buried out at St. Ignatius.”
Kevin was speechless. As he signed the credit card receipt he saw printed at the top- Mahoney’s Diner. He gave the woman a hug, looked up at the photograph and said a silent “thank you.”
We all give thanks tomorrow. Add forgiveness to the menu.