What did I witness yesterday? The love of one man towards another; at a time little in this world can prepare you for. I witnessed a spirit still struggling to survive, to mean something; true concern over another.
We agreed that driving an automobile is arguably one of life's greatest pleasures; as good as it gets, for the average guy. Here we are, cruising along at 70 mph, in relative ease if not absolute comfort. We barely move a muscle. Look how far we've come and how far we might go...
I witnessed men convey so much through simple touch; I witnessed the respect of attention; given and received. Neither man could adequately speak his feelings, so they showed them, their eyes and hands verbalizing what they could not. Tears well in the men's eyes; they know the great mystery of friendship at an old age, when a stronger certainty of the unknown enters the equation. The true appreciation of this shows in a longer handshake, the sincere directness of and in the eyes.
What if we couldn't speak to each other? How would we adequately communicate feelings of sorrow and joy, let alone deeper, more intimate details?
Animals do this all the time, and we do as well. We posture and show much feeling and intent with our visage, and the use of our eyes. Do you smile with your eyes?
I witnessed the importance of a cookie wrapped in a napkin from a pocket in Virgil's jacket; given and taken with the gravity it deserved.
"Home baked." he proudly states. (This simple phrase can take him at least 15-30 seconds to articulate.)
Hans takes the offered pastry, silently praising it. (This simple gesture can take him at least 15-30 seconds to accomplish.)
The two men held hands for a long while after that.
I realized at one point that I was sitting in the presence of at least a combined 85-90 (probably over a hundred), years of skiing knowledge, legend, and history. Both men started skiing back in the day, Han's name and face becoming iconic in the northwest, Virgil a long time stoic figure wearing the white cross; he was one of my mentors when I first donned the Ski Patrol jacket. Others taught me the standard medical and avalanche stuff, but he showed me civility, amongst other things; how to be a gentleman in a rough world.
I witnessed a man needing to get out; to go and see. The ride home was quiet after we left Hans. I suggest a burger and a beer as we near Wallace, and he readily agrees. I don't think I'm supposed to, but why not? We hit the Pub and have the time of our lives...
Virgil was, without a doubt, a happier, more spry man when I brought him home later in the afternoon, satisfied with having accomplished something that day. Ready to sit and be content, a hard thing to do, it seems, near the end.
