Joe

I steamed broccoli for dinner, and thought of Joe.

We met Joe at a campground six or seven years ago, and soon learned that he wasn't out there camping just for the fun of it. Joe was stuck between a 40-year marriage and a heart-tugging trip he wanted to make back to the home of his childhood.

"She up and left, just like that," he said, snapping his fingers. "No warning. I just woke up one morning and she was long gone. Didn't leave a note or anything." His lined forehead and drooped shoulders testified to the freshness of his wound.

So, Joe gathered up what little his wife had left--a few dishes, some skillets and pans-- and pointed his camper toward Kentucky, where he'd grown up in a bustling family of twelve. "But wouldn't you know, forty miles down the road, this old truck blew a gasket," he said with a shrug.

A good-hearted friend sent him to an able mechanic, who fixed the problem for 1/3 what he'd pay anywhere else. Joe said he moved to a campground so he could think. He went to work every day as usual, and was saving his money for the long trip ahead. "The rules say I can only stay two weeks," he mumbled. So every thirteen days he'd rotate to another campground, then return to his favorite corner spot.

The morning we were preparing to head home, I noticed Joe sitting near his campfire, hands wrapped around a cup of coffee. We always packed too much food on our campouts, so I filled a brown bag with our extra nectarines, bananas, and a few canned goods.

His expression lit up like a 150-watter when we delivered the groceries. "Wait right there," he said, and dove into the back of his camper to retrieve a shiny, lidded pan with a rack inside. "It's for steaming vegetables," he said.

I almost refused his gift, thinking he should hang onto what little he had, but something stopped me. "Thank you so much," I replied. "I'm sure I'll use it often."

We swapped goodbyes, and wished him well. As we rounded the corner with our trailer, I glanced back to catch Joe's wave. Never saw him again, but every time I steam fresh vegetables, I wonder what ever happened to him, and I whisper a prayer on his behalf.