On my drive home last night I noticed an old man, all bundled up, sitting on a lawn chair in his garage.
He was just sitting there, by himself, watching the world go by.
Although, as this was a side street, there wasn’t all that much “world going by” to see.
It made me wonder why he would be doing that.
It wasn’t as though it was a nice sunny day. It was rather gloomy and chilly.
And yet there he was.
A few thoughts occurred to me.
Maybe he was escaping from his chatterbox wife!
Maybe he was having a smoke.
Maybe he, like so many people, just wanted some alone time…
Sometimes I wonder that too. I would like to think they are sitting, enjoying the sun on their heads, the wind around their ears, the ground under their feet…at least I enjoy that when I sit outside.
Why do they do it? I wish I knew.
This reminded me of an old man I saw years ago. I pulled up to a stop sign, and sitting on a porch off to the right of the car sat an old man on a porch. He had his head in his hands and he was sobbing. I sat there watching him. My heart broke from him. I imagined maybe he had lost his wife of fifty years or something just as horrible. I really wanted to go over and give him a hug.
Who ever knows. As I’m discovering these days, even when people tell us what they’re thinking we can never really know them.
Which, I suppose, it what makes all these people so damn fascinating.