It happens almost every night.
I shut off the computer,
turn out the light,
and leave the office.
I walk down the hall to the elevator
and push the call button.
When the cab arrives, I push “1” and head downstairs.
Hector is there to see me out.
Sometimes we talk about weather or family.
Often we talk sports.
[Conversations got interesting when
my Steelers beat his Jets.]
Then I head for the door,
and I hear Hector’s final words:
always the same
always in the same, kind voice:
“Good night, Marko.
Get home safe.”
Get home safe.
We live in a world where so many have not a home
a tent in a refugee camp
a blanket in the back of a car
a cot in a shelter
a mattress in a brothel
a root of a tree
a spot on a subway grate;
a world where unsafe situations fill so many homes:
domestic violence
sex trafficking
war
exploitation
persecution
occupation
a world where the journey home
is unsafe
perils, dangers
known and unknown
lurk and strike
with regularity and ferocity.
In such a world, Hector’s words come as
a blessing
a benediction
a prayer that the day may soon dawn . . .
and a challenge that we work for that day . . .
when
every one has a home
every home is safe
and we all travel there safely.
Get home safe.
May it be so.
See you along the Trali.
Along the Graybeard Trail 