I have this amazing human in my life, a real friendship from the most unique of scenarios. We moved to a suburb outside of the big city 4 years ago now so we could gain more space with a baby our super cute downtown bachelor apartment was busting full. That amazing apartment had no rooms just a open concept and I loved it! Right in the core of the city, tram train outside my door, we never stopped going out and about it’s was outbreak from responsibility that we had too much of too young. We found this old old I mean Vikings old cottage near the lake, about a ten minute walk. The old shack has only wood heat, plywood cupboards made on 1935 little water ripple effect above the sink, so classic. The cottage nearly froze us the first winter like living in a basket with pet rats and all, ya. We declared bankruptcy and had the bail bonds man reposes our nice royal blue 300. We needed a place to call home and renting a house in the city doubles so suburbs we went. We certainly knew poverty at that very humbling time. Sad at first but this old shack has the greatest memories within its old newspaper packed walls.
A few weeks after moving in a little old man in a super tiny old trailer parked his home at the front of the property. We heard many tales of this super sweet kind old man who was returning to his home soon. Handy Andy was his name he runes that by 30 years here shovelling, painting, lugging bricks and clearing job sites all across the city. He came up the driveway with his distinct sideways twitchy walk, hump on his back this tiny man. Hand out hello and such a warm weathered face. Beyond the burnt dried out scared skin these blue eyes that almost glow like little flashlights hidden by his squint. Instantly friends. A bit weary of a man living in a trailer, no electricity, water, toilet just a tin roof over his mattress. The proudest he was of his home, something never good enough for anyone else was his palace. As we know know Andy was a severe alcoholic that had him living on the streets or a shelter on a good night. Usually he woke up in the drunk tank. 8 years ago after another near death overdose Andy sought help at the shelters missionary church. For him he found worth, gave up the bottle and decided to try a new way to walk. Shorty after he saved up enough cash from his labours to by a rusted out broken trailer. He worked cleaning up a job site near by so they knew him, his story and let him park his new and first home on the lot. A friendship that came is way more than I could imagine.
Every day I saw his wrinkled happy face coming and going, working in my garden this became normal. We began to chat and before long that little beat up old man was my friend. By friend I mean the most honest, open unfiltered friendship I’ve had. Now 4 years later Andy is family nothing less. He’s done so very much for me by just being kind and incredibly thoughtful. I love him. If a few days go by without talking I’m calling him to make sure he’s ok. His sobriety is nothing more than amazing strength. Later on we discovered he was actually freezing up there, snow covered wind blowing in Snow crystals sleeping under a pile of blankets nearly a dozen. In 30 below storms he’d ride his bike I. The wind and rain to work sleeping frozen all night then off to work. He’s completely independent but now we are so close.
I have so so many handy Andy stories to share.
My bestest truest friend