The Can Man
His name is Frank.
He walked into my life ten, maybe fifteen years ago
& I’ve seen him just about every week since that very first Tuesday.
But until yesterday, I never realized just how much I treasure him.
I call him the Can Man.
He is the collector of my used pop and beer containers.
Frank takes them to the Recycle Center where they pay by the pound.
My house is just one of the stops along his route.
Seems there are quite a few of us ‘regulars’ that will set our cans aside for Frank.
A separate bag, just for him.
Frank first noticed my recycle bin back in the day of much pop and beer consumption.
The kids still lived at home with their many friends always over
& the adults sure loved those cold ones.
We were forever filling and refilling our ‘beer fridge’ with whatever was on sale that week.
The empties ended up in our very overloaded recycle bin
& that’s when Frank appeared.
Husband took the garbage out one Monday evening and Frank asked if we would mind.
We didn’t
& we’ve been saving those cans ever since.
One day, I happened to be outside when Frank came by to collect
& we talked.
We are still talking.
That Frank is a chatty one ! but, I suppose he can say the same about me.
He tells me about his family.
I tell him about mine
& he loves the Chicago Bears.
Needless to say, we talk Bears.
A lot.
Frank is not at all patient with our favorite NFL team.
I anticipate and love his seasonal rants.
I worry about Frank though.
He has a good thirty years on me and probably should retire the cans.
But he insists as long as he is able, he will continue.
I can tell Frank has aches and pains but, he never complains.
He just smiles and talks and collects those cans.
About this time every year Frank heads down to the land of sunshine and fluffy clouds.
He loves those winters of warmth
& every year before he leaves, he brings by a token of thanks.
Thanks for saving the cans.
Yesterday was that day.
Our Thank You, BIG HUG, See You in the Spring Day.
As he got into his truck and was driving away Frank reminded me that as we keep getting older, those cans get fewer
& he’s right.
What used to be six, seven, even eight bags saved through Winter has now become one.
‘No worries’ he said.
He’ll be back in the Spring to check, just in case we have more.
I reminded Frank that my Spring is not officially Spring until I see his sweet face
& I will keep saving cans as long as he keeps coming back.
‘Deal’ he promised.
I so hope I’m saving those empty cans forever.
🙂