All last year he was there, ushering, waving, shepherding. I got the occasional nod of acknowledgement as I stopped at his polite but firm behest. Sometimes I stopped before he had even asked. I felt in tune with him. If I was early he would be there leaning against the hedge, waiting for his punters to turn up. Dressed in his bright yellow coat and carrying his lollipop he was always there. It was comforting. You felt good to be with him, albeit for the few short seconds it took to drive past, or to slow down and stop, then pass. You felt you were part of his community and that his short working day was a wonderful contribution to that community.
This morning as I drove to work it occurred to me that I didn’t see him on the first day back to school. Then I didn’t think about it for a few days. I must have been away for some of that time and so as I drove up to the traffic island opposite the school today I looked out for him. There he was, or so I thought from a distance. That bright yellow coat and black hat. However something didn’t seem right as I drove closer. It wasn’t the old lollipop man! It was a lollipop lady and not him. It depressed me. I have nothing against the lady but I felt that my links to that community were suddenly strained. I became concerned..
His was another walk on role in my life. Really a background piece of transient action as the tapestry rolled on.