To the editor:
As each one of us goes through our busy days, we come into contact with many people who out of necessity of routine are involved in our lives. These folks are sometimes pleasant or not, depending on many factors that are definitely beyond our own individual control. Perhaps it is the hurried cashier at the gas station or the talkative teller at our local bank. Or maybe it is just someone who we wave to as our paths cross on the same familiar trail we take each day. Most of us don’t miss someone that they don’t even know yet. However, when someone who is nameless, although not faceless, is a part of your daily routine you do indeed miss them when they are not there anymore.
Over five years ago, on my way to work each morning, I drove by a house with a porch where an old man sat in his rocking chair enjoying the fresh air of the morning and the soothing distraction of traffic. I do not know what his name was but each early morning as I drove by and eagerly looked, there he sat watching the cars go by. Most importantly, each day he would quickly recognize my vehicle, smile and wave. This was the extent of our relationship. Nothing more and nothing less. Neither one of us knew who the other person was but somehow we both looked forward to that single moment of simple recognition bobbing happily along in an ocean of morning chaos.
Then one day I moved far away and was no longer there to wave to at all. Years passed, lives changed, and ironically, here I was, relocated back to the same geographic region once again. Stranger still was the fact that my new employment brought me back to the same road once again, twice daily, to and fro,
As I drove along one morning, approaching his house, I felt myself physically leaning toward his residence, my body hunched over the steering wheel. As I gripped tighter, my eyes frantically searched for the old capped fellow with the cheerful grin and strong wave. I caught myself flailing my arm like some kind of lunatic that morning when our eyes finally met and the truth be told, I was struggling not to cry out with sheer relief and joy. Imagine after all of that time, he still remembered me (although I had a different vehicle) and our special morning waves; passing quickly, but not unappreciated. I think both of us were just grateful to be there and waving at all.
Reflecting on this whole thing just led me to more questions. Why was I so emotionally attached to this old fellow and how could I feel such a connection to him when I didn’t even know the slightest detail about him, besides his physical address? Then, how could I worry about the well being of a person who was nameless but disregard others who had names in my life but seemed so unreachable? Far worse and more confusing still, other issues began to surface in my mind like the ghosts of Christmas past. Why do people treat each other with no humanistic compassion on a daily basis when we all are biologically the same, with identical physical and emotional needs? For example, we all want to enjoy a hot supper after a long day and have a safe spot to lay our tired heads. We all want to be loved and to be able to love, in order to feel accepted. The list goes on and you don’t need to be a rocket scientist to figure the basics out. Which leads me to my second thought: How come total strangers can treat us better than our immediate family at times, even though we have no genetic link to them?
This is a parallel that has no scientific answer and absolutely no excuse. The next time you consider cruelty as a consequence for your kinfolk, please think again. This is a good rule to follow the entire year through, not just during the holidays when people begin to feel a bit guilty. Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, the final Christmas ghost hovers in our cold, mental fireplaces, then settles down to share — Why do people have the obsession to name objects, emotions and people before they feel justified to care about them at all? If we already feel something, then we should let our instincts be our guide to take the journey, no matter what the outcome may be. Only we know as individuals why we do the things we do, they don’t need a name to be real or just.
The holidays make us all a bit more sensitive indeed, but I’m pretty sure I am not the first one to ponder these fallacies. I am also sure that I won’t be the last. But they have made me think in simpler terms. If I feel this giddy happiness waving to a complete stranger, what could I feel if I stop one day soon for a visit? I bet he could tell me stories about things I have never seen let alone done in my lifetime. I know he is a veteran from the single star hanging on his door and his hat he so proudly wears, but Veteran’s Day has come and gone now and we are heading towards Christmas.
Every morning after I drive by, I make mental plans to just pull in the next day and introduce myself. He doesn’t sit outside anymore because it is too cold. I keep worrying that time won’t give me the chance to really know the old man as himself and he won’t know how much he means to me. Like everyone else in December, my schedule is busy, but I want the two of us to be at the top of my holiday priority list. Anyway, it is the perfect time to drop off some cookies and fudge. And in my own mind I hope one day, as I sit wrinkled and gray on my porch, someone will stop to notice me.
Washburn
