I’ve been spending a lot of time alone this summer. Yesterday I went to breakfast by myself and the lady asked, “where are all your buddies at Jumbo?”
Later in the afternoon I went to the Joyce and had a Bloody Mary by my lonesome. The other night I went out to dinner and ate alone and I often go for solitary walks around town.
I usually run into people that I know at the Pancake House, the pub and at the Italian Restaurant. I bump into familiar faces along the path near the river. Always having brief conversations or a quick greeting.
But after every encounter I walk away by myself.
I like sitting on my balcony and watching life on the block. I see the dog walkers everyday at the same time. Every Saturday morning around seven thirty the same bike group speeds by on their expensive bicycles. A guy with a beard in a Brookfield Zoo uniform walking to work. I see Tattoo Runner getting it done. I see people coming home from work. Some have a bag of carryout for dinner and some have a twelve pack.
I look at these neighbors coming home to a lonely and sad apartment, but what does the tired lady with her Chinese food and the down and out single guy with his Busch Light see when they look up at me?
Do they see a lonely divorced father? That guy on the balcony is always up there listening to his jazz music and drinking cocktails. That guy needs to get a life!
Out of all the people I see walking on a daily basis, two stick out and move me the most. I get emotional every time they walk past.
The first is an elderly man and his handicapped son. They take their evening stroll when the sun has settled to the side of the sky. The dad is in his seventies and the son looks to be in his thirties. Dad looks tired, but has his arm out to guide his son. The son looks to have severe autism. He shuffles his feet and holds on tightly to his daddy’s arm.
When I watch the father and son walk by I count my blessings. My oldest son is on the opposite side of the spectrum. The challenges that George and I face, pale in comparison. Watching the dad with his son is a message from God to never feel sorry for myself.
The second daily encounter I see from the balcony is a couple in their eighties. Holding each other up as they get their daily steps in. One of them is always smiling as the other is speaking. This is a message from God telling me that I missed out on growing older with someone.
The day will come when the father passes away. I worry about what will happen to his son when nobody is there for the evening stroll.
The day will also come when a spouse will die and only one of them will walk below my balcony. Will the survivor still have a smile on their face when all they have is a cane to hold them up?
And though George is always around and the redheads come over often… I dread the day I stop being alone and I become lonely. I will become Eleanor Rigby of Riverside.
Sunday Funday! Let’s go Cubbies and White Sox. The middle of August is upon us. George and I are going to have steak tonight that was on sale at Amazon Fresh.
.... tonight I will sit on the balcony and look for the reminders that make life Mo Betta!
The dog walkers,
the zoo keeper,
the tattooed runner,
the young couples pushing strollers,
the fatigued father with his special son
and the couple that have been in love all these years…..
….Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da
