Thursday 24 October 2013

Some ask why I stay here...

There is a man who comes to the café from time to time. He is very hard work. He rambles and talks about many things, he speaks about bible codes and Hinduism, the gospel of Thomas etc... You will rarely get a word in edgeways. He speaks of being reborn and having a relationship with God. He will visit for several hours and I know that wherever he is, he is rejected, because of the scruffy appearance, the bad social skills, the loud voice, the overbearing conversations. I have known him for about 6 years. He seems to flip from church to church, largely I believe because beside the above, he outstays his welcome. I have also learned from him about his childhood and his family life. He tells me that he was unable to graduate from school as he was unable to understand written questions. He says that when he was little he was allowed to stay up late watching b&w movies on television on his fathers lap (I suspect this was the only time he was quiet). His whole family has rejected him. He has a 'woman' and child and they will not see him. He tells me he is in love with some other woman and is very joyful, but I fear he is mistaken by her smiles to him.
He told me that he went to drop some pumpkins off at his mum a week ago (she must be in her 90's) as he is at least 70. He said that she kicked him out of the house. And then he shows me a little envelope, with a little card inside, that was sent to him. In it, on the card, on one side is some sweet sentimental poem, and on the other is the words written in pen, 'My Dear ...., I love you, always, Mum.'. He asks me what do I make of that? He says how can he be kicked out and then the next day she sends a card. You can read what you want into this, but knowing the man I am sure he was a very difficult child, as he is very difficult today. He is not horrible, just very unusual, peculiar; and he doesn't 'fit in'. I am sure his mothers heart is wrenched every time she sees him, and I am sure she hates sending him away and I try to convey this to him, but he doesn't understand. I always try to make time for him, he is really loveable and gentle, full of little jokes. I know that if I was in any other work I would probably not be able to accommodate him. I am so glad he feels able to visit us. Eventually, at the end of the day that he is visiting he invariably is the last person to leave. For the last number of hours I have had very little chance to speak, and now he must leave. I have to admit, over 6 years I am now getting to say more; he is getting better, but slowly, and I have had to be very direct. It is difficult to force him out, and I, like his mother, feel pain, but it is tinged with joy.

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