When I first saw Patrick, it was the day of his 60th birthday party and the day that I moved in to my flat. He's my next door neighbour.
I saw him at his door, when I came back from a local pub, feeling a bit tipsy and happy with my new flat. I asked the old man: "Are you the birthday king? Hello I've just moved in to your next door. Can I give you a kiss to wish you a happy birthday?" and he said hesitatenly "yes" so I gave him a kiss on his cheek congratulating his birthday. He went very blushed.
Since then, he's always been very kind and looked after my bushy garden, taking care with delivery while I was away, he's like a gardien but he also became a bit of a bother from time to time - like checking upon me...Usually he's always at his door steps, drinking beers and smoking. In the summer time, he gets tanned after the hours of gardening.
He had to stop working.... unfortunate injury on his knee, he tripped himself outside my flat (apparently), he'd been on clutches for many months. I was on clutches around the same time as him, and we used to chat over the tea. Obviously, he seems very sad when I recovered and back to work, while he's still had to stay on clutches. And it went on until the day I left the village.
It was sad for me to let go my flat as well as leaving the lovely village behind for a new place in France. The night before my departure, he helped me checking with my car, it was very cold November night, nearly mid night, as I had to put some special stickers to adjust the headlights to French ones. I still managed to keep those stickers on my car though.
Before dawn, I parted to Dover, he was there outside the doorsteps.... (don't know whether he ever sleeps?) Bless him, he greeted at my departure.
When my hubby told me that he saw a brief image of an old man on the google map street view, it brought a smile on my face - I can't have a chit chat with him any more but I know that he's well.