I am starting the New Year by doing a Yahrzeit tradition something I have done since my father died thirteen years ago, a Mitzvah. A mitzvah is a random act of kindness. The Mitzvah can honor anyone and or anything just do one.
I left the house taking the long way so I could enjoy music and the sun on New Year’s Day. I was heading west on 13th Avenue towards downtown; I scoped out the street and saw two men on 13th and Clarkson Street. I continued to my usual drop-off local at 14th and Logan in front of the church. The spot had no lost homeless souls asking for food or money today. Why are they lost many saw things in previous wars?
I drove up to 16th Avenue and turned right on to Washington Street heading south to 12th Avenue. All those are One-Way streets and adjustments are easy to maneuver on sunny days. I turned left on to Clarkson Street heading north and put on the emergency flashers, a courtesy to other drivers. I looked in my rearview mirror, a concern with other cars driving north, but the plus, its New Year’s Day, lighter traffic.
I rolled down the window and the gentlemen commented on my Denver Broncos jacket. I replied to the gentlemen about my jacket, “My brother bought me the jacket, he was the Chef for the Denver Broncos. To be exact Invesco Field at Mile High Stadium on the club level. The gentlemen said, “I know your brother, he taught me how to cook.”
I said, “Pardon, my brother passed away two years ago.” I asked him his name, “I am Lance, and I use to fly with the 92nd Airborne.” My heart was pounding, and I smiled as he spoke of Chef Moe. I was crying, but he could not see the tears through my Ray-Ban’s. I remember my brother telling me that on game day they’d bring in homeless day workers because they needed the extra kitchen staff.
“Your brother was a big man with a kind heart, not like the chef that yells on T.V.”
“You mean Chef Gordon Ramsey.”
“Yes, him, and he gets crazy with his cooks. Your brother explained everything to me. How to hold a knife and how to sauté food, and your brother treated me with dignity.” “He was the amputee, correct.”
“Yes, he was an amputee, and a kind man that died too young from diabetes and heart problems”
“Do you have a picture of your brother, can I see him.”
“My iPhone is slow in loading and my hands are shaking, one moment. Here’s Chef Moe.”
“That’s him, that’s him, wow, what a small world.”
I asked him, “What war did you serve?”
“I served Operation Desert Storm.”
I asked him about his military service and he went silent, I knew that was a sore subject. We chatted about his failing health, and he could barely walk before he said’ “You best move your car so you don’t get a ticket.” I thanked him repeatedly, and I am still in shock, but joyful. I drove away humbled after giving him the food. I recorded my emotions and just played them back, and wow.
I am wishing you my readers; Mitzvah’s, joys, peace, and loves for the New Year.