It happened every week. I’d see his face pop up on my phone screen with his bright countenance and smile. At times, I couldn’t get to his call fast enough. Regardless, I’d hear, “ROOMIE !!! Fred. How’s it going? Good. Hey, let’s get together and have a coffee or an adult beverage. I know you’re busy, but I’d love to see you.”
It was like clockwork. I knew that Fred would always check in with me. We’d try to meet every once in a while when he was still working. Ever since he had retired, we had gotten together more often. I felt bad when I couldn’t meet with him due to work, travel, or other commitments. He always understood and remained undeterred. He knew we’d get together eventually.
Each time we met, we’d cover all of the important topics – faith, family, work, and of course, HR !! He always wanted to hear about my adventures speaking and what was still happening in the field. He’d listen to my stories, and we’d howl with laughter. It didn’t matter that others were seated around us. He would glow with stories about his wife, Karen, his daughters, Heather and Kim, and his grandchildren. He only said encouraging things about them. Also, he intentionally made sure to ask about my wife Debbie and our kids, Melanie and Josh. Always. He never missed it. Ever.
Our regular meeting place was a table for two in the back corner of Cavu Coffee. It’s an independent coffee shop. I dig the vibe and the staff whom I know most by name. I’d always make sure to get there a few minutes before Fred so I could make sure to buy his coffee. I cherished the time I had with him far more than any cost. We’d always order the same thing. I’d get a large black light roast, and he’d get a medium light roast – with room for cream. We’d wait at the counter and then saunter over to our table.
As Fred was ill and trying to recover from his recent back surgery, I told him he had to get better so we could get back and have another coffee. He smiled when I mentioned that and told me he would love to !! Every time I’d visit him, I’d tell him he needed to do what he could to recover because our coffee was waiting. Unfortunately, Fred’s health continued to wane. I went to see him last Sunday after church, and I knew that the inevitable was coming. The next day, Heather texted me and told me I needed to come quickly if I wanted to say goodbye. I left work early to go and sit by the bedside of my best friend.
As I talked to him, I told him about Debbie and the kids one more time. I prayed over him, told him I loved him, and that I was so grateful that he was such an integral part of my life. I told him that he still owed me a coffee. I bent over and kissed him on the forehead. He died on Wednesday. I was, and still am, crushed.
On Friday morning, I was at the door of Cavu Coffee as it opened at 6:00 am. Hannah greeted me as she usually does. I told her that I had a unique request. I wanted to buy two coffees – one large light roast and one medium light roast with room for cream. I went back to the corner table and had one more coffee with Fred.
It wasn’t quite the same, but I wanted to make sure to do this. You see, Fred provided something for me (and so many others) – deep friendship. He was an anchor in my life, and I knew I could count on him. Likewise, I did my best to be an anchor for him in return. My hope was that I would have had years and years to savor our coffees together. However, we aren’t guaranteed the time we hope will be in front of us.
I know there are too many people in my life who don’t have an anchor as I did with Fred. That shouldn’t be the case. With all that life throws at us, you need at least one other person who will ride alongside you no matter what you both face.
I’ve decided that I want to continue being someone who keeps my corner table open and welcomes anyone who’s willing to dive deep and develop a meaningful, truly lifetime relationship. I don’t want to miss anyone. I hope to be Fred for someone else – for years to come. Because, you see, there’s always time for . . . one more coffee.
