Yesterday Kim and I did laps at the public pool and worked up an appetite worth a BBQ with friends. We pulled up to Vons sporting sopping wet hair and on a mission for turkey meat, avocados, and Kettle chips. She sent out the invitations via phone calls while listing items for me to fetch. On my way to the buns an old man caught my eye as he peered into the mounds of refrigerated butter.
I immediately recognized his flannel coat; I’ve noticed it nearly everyday since I moved into my apartment. There has always been something about this man. Blessed by a ton of windows, I can potentially see him walking down our street from any room in the house. His white hair is matted down to his head and well combed, his slouch is slight, and his black orthopedic shoes carry him to and fro. In a way he reminds me of my father, only if my father were alone. Whenever he caught my eye, which was often, I’d find myself reciting a silent prayer hoping he is happy and fulfilled. Who am I to assume he is unhappy without a ring on his finger? And yet I still wished there was someone, anyone walking by his side on his daily errands.
So with onion buns resting in my hands I wondered, should I say hello? What if he’s a mean, old grump and makes me feel stupid? Kim beckoned me to another aisle and I lost track of my thoughts. However, in the bacon section we again stood side by side. “I see you walking everywhere,” I mustered up.
He squinted, “Eh?”
“I said, I see you walking all over the neighborhood all the time. Almost every time I look out the window, you’re there!”
He smiled from ear to ear and his crystal blue eyes lit up, “Oh, oh where do you live?”
I explained my location and he knew of my landlord. “A woman,” he said as though imparting an impressive secret, “A woman owns that whole place, not a man.” He seemed proud of her. “You know, I’d guess she’s about an age she could be your mother.” He shook his head, “And I could be her father,” to Kim and I, “and your grandfather!”
I laughed, “Well, that settles it. We’re a big family!” I stuck out my hand, “I’m Brenda.”
He reached out for mine, “Oh, Dan.”
He nodded and looked as though he didn’t want the conversation to end. “Well, I’m sure I’ll keep seeing you around.”
“Yes, yes I will see you both soon!”
While we walked away he continued to grin and nod his head. I don’t know why I felt so strongly that I had to talk to him but what’s done is done. Maybe I needed it for my own comfort, to know that he is happy. Gladly, it seems that he is.
PS- I wrote this and left my house to meet Kim. Walking towards me were Dan and an elderly male friend. My heart nearly burst with happiness when his smile widened and he introduced us. In these two years I’ve never seen him with anyone!
