The Subtle People in Life

Last week I discovered a loss – one I had not expected. My mechanic, Roger, passed over. On the surface, it appeared ‘sad,’ but not ‘huge.’ Only it felt surprisingly huge.

Roger was one of the subtle people in my life. He was there when I needed him, and at times with my car ailments, I ‘needed’ him. I didn’t actually realize until now, how much that ‘need’ impacted me.

As a young gal with her first car, I got hooped by the unsavoury dealership service department. I could see it coming miles ahead of the speedometer reading reaching its set service times. The letters in my mailbox arrived months earlier than my mileage predicted, followed by nagging phone messages. You see, I am a ‘low mileage driver’ – one of the first lessons Roger taught me. He gave me my driver identity!

One day as I drove home from a visit to the dealership, feeling like a ‘schmuck young girl-driver,’ I turned into Roger’s garage – following my intuitive guidance! Our first meeting was with me nearly in tears. Now, decades later the tears well up again.

I learned from Roger that I was no ‘schmuck young girl-driver’ – I had choices. I spoke with my steering wheel, by driving to his garage instead of theirs! Roger took loving care of my car for 18 years. He was my ‘go-to-guy’ – I bypassed my dad, my brother, my uncles and my friends…for Roger. He was my vehicular mentor!

Then, one day I stopped by to tell Roger I was selling my car. He was more upset than I was, possibly because of potential lost business, but more genuinely because it was the passing of an era – my first car was moving on. But there was a twist: I was selling my car to my young cousin. It would be her first car!

Roger understood instantly, and set to work tuning it up, ensuring the legacy lived on. In preparing for the car sale, my uncle ‘interviewed’ Roger to get the skinny on my car. My cousin and I took a field trip, so Roger could pass along some words of vehicular wisdom to her. The keys were being passed, with Roger’s typical support, patience and sense of humour.

So, when my new car arrived, I saw less of Roger. The past few years involved only basic maintenance visits. Yet, every time I drive my car, some road wisdom lives on with the voice of Roger whispering from the glove compartment, the gas tank or the air vents. My knowledge of cars has grown vastly thanks to my mentor – I am no longer a ‘schmuck’ driver with ‘over-charge me’ on my forehead!

Roger leaves his legacy with each customer, like me, whom he educated, supported and laughed with. While we passed through each others’ lives in subtle ways, he left a bigger mark in my life than was obvious even to me. As Roger would say: “Won’t know til I look under the hood.” So looking ‘under the hood’ of my heart, I didn’t know until now – he was more than a person subtly passing through my life. He was a beloved mentor.

Who in your life is more than a mere person passing subtly through your life? On closer ‘inspection,’ what lessons do they have to teach you? How do you share your appreciation? How do you honour their wisdom, care and friendship? How do you ‘know’ them?

Thank you, Roger!