A Note About Frank

We have been going to the YMCA at Mineral and Broadway for the past 18 years, although our attendance has been sporadic of late.  During all of those years a great old guy named Frank has been a constant.  He passes out towels and locker keys in the morning.  More often than not we locker next to one another.  He always has a friendly word for every one in his thin, breathy little voice and he has a twinkly sense of humor.  He's the kind of guy who understands and appreciates all the little ironies that fill a big place with lots of employees and lots of members.

We hadn't been to the Y for the past two weeks for a variety of lame reasons, so when we walked in this morning we were devastated to hear that Frank had died of pneumonia just a few days previous.  There was a sign on the check-in desk letting us know that there would be a small reception for Frank's family and friends the day after tomorrow.

I didn't know Frank except to joke around with him every morning.  I didn't even know his last name.  Still don't.  But I did admire him, and not just because he was some nice old guy with a locker next to mine.

For all those years we have been going to the Y, Frank never missed a morning work out.  There he was walking around the track, alternating laps between a straight forward stride and then once around backwards and then once around doing those scissor things that the aerobics instructors make their charges do in order to drum up business for osteopaths.  Frank wasn't fast, but he was determined.

About ten years ago, just when Kathie and I were beginning retirement, Frank was stretching by hoisting one leg up on the track railing and then leaning forward to touch his toes.  He promptly shattered a bone in his leg.  We all worried.  We all clucked that someone of Frank's age shouldn't be doing things like that.  On my part, I decided never to hoist my leg up on a railing and it is a decision that has been working for me ever since.

In a surprisingly short time, Frank was back at the Y walking with his various gaits around the track.  He was still stretching, but being a little more careful, and until the day he died he was constantly at it.  Here was a guy determined to live for ever or die in the attempt.

His passing has given Kathie and me renewed determination to follow suit.  I figure with a combination of daily work outs, healthy food, and lots and lots of sex we have a real shot at it.

Katherine and I miss Frank and mourn his passing.