You could still see a few stalks of this year’s yield on the way to Miguel’s farm this overcast, Sunday morning.
He had reached out earlier in the week and asked if I could give him a hand to inventory his motorcycles.
The liver and colon cancer that has ravaged Miguel was too far along now, despite the chemotherapy and treatment he’s endured for the past 18 months.
When we spoke he shared he doesn’t think he’ll make it to his birthday in late November.
He’s preparing as best as he can to make things easier for his wife when he’s gone.
Today he’s focusing on his vintage motorcycles with the energy he still possesses in his weak frame. To be ready for sale to support his wife and what will be left of the farm operations.
I met Wayne, Bill, and Rolando, who were already there helping the cause. From his wheelchair, Miguel communicated what went where and the trick to starting up several of his vintage motorcycles.
Miguel and Rolando competed in motorcycles races across the country in their younger years. Wayne owns a Harley bike dealership, nearby. And, Bill fought for our country in the Marines.
Few words were exchanged amongst us beyond what tools were needed for our tasks and where things should be moved in the pole barn. The most exchanged was when Bill and I walked over to my ‘83 Scottsdale and we talked about the fuel injection I had installed over the summer.
None of us would respond when Miguel apologized for not being at his best.
But we were all connected and there for him, as the sun broke through the clouds.
At the end of the day and in the Autumn of someone’s life, feeling connected with and being able to rely on a few friends may be what matters.
Only Miguel knows.
In all seasons of the lives of our friends and family, being connected with and there for them may be what matters the most.