Congratulations !
You have been awarded points.
Thank you for !
- Story Listed as: True Life For Adults
- Theme: Family & Friends
- Subject: Aging / Maturity
- Published: 09/10/2020
The Old Man’s days blur…as does his reality. It must be his second childhood, because just like the first one, he has long lazy days where only the feeling of a good day lingers…but not the details.
Some things stand out in his day: going to the beach for the first time in three years. His wife’s joy for both him, and her, that they can walk hand in hand on the beach for the first time in years…contained in a single small kiss. One that only forty years of ups and downs, gathered with a thousand memories, a hundred journeys, and hours of ordinary time together can hold. The kiss was earned and deserved. It stay with him all day.
He doesn’t work. His friends all live in different cities. He spends the greater part of every day…alone. But…not lonely. He stacks his days with a blend of present moments, lost moments, and shared moments. His contact with strangers or neighbors limited to his few walks, his emails, and brief conversations.
Take today…it is pretty much like all his other days. It starts the same way: waking up before his wife so he can have her coffee ready when she goes of to work. He sits in the dark until he hears her stir. She asks sleepily : “How are you feeling?”
“A bit better every day.”
She smiles that soft angel smile he adores so much.
“How did you sleep, Honey?”
“Wonderful. I woke up thinking about something Lincoln said that made me laugh.”
She shares that moment with the Old Man. They laugh together. He gets her coffee ready, adds just the right amount of chocolate milk, not cream, and no sugar. A ruffled old piece of aluminum foil get folded over the top of her coffee mug. That keeps the heat in until she is ready for that first sip.
“Ahh…mmm…perfect.”
She thanks the Old Man for making her coffee. They joke about her honor to whatever God invented Coffee…knowing just that one cup will carry her through to lunchtime. He holds the door as she goes out, one hand full of coffee mug, the other hand holding the keys to the truck. Sometimes he sneaks a peck on her cheek as she squeezes by. It make her smile.
“Lock the door behind me!”
He smiles. He has heard that same command a thousand times. He does lock the door. She is off to work. Her day beginning to unfold. He is alone now. And his day is just starting too.
First, back to bed! Lucid dreams fill this first part of his day. He has no money. But in his dreams he is always showing up to help people out when they need some money. Or he pays for their roof. Or for a new washer. Maybe he gets a computer for the kids in the house across the street. Sometimes he takes a car to the shop to get all knew tires, brakes, and shocks…plus a tune up.
He can’t do these things in real life, but he would…if he could. Even though he didn’t help out in real life…the lucid dreams leave him in a good mood. He got to be generous…even if only in his imagination. It is enough. When he wakes up to make his first cup of tea (if you don’t count the one he made in the middle of the night) he checks outside to see how the weather is. Wondering if he can squeeze his walk in before the rains come.
He laughs at himself for reaching for his phone to check the weather. “Jesus, old man, just open the door and step outside.” He wonders, and not for the first time, how dependent he has become on his smartphone, that he reaches for it before looking out a window. He makes a mental note to check the weather outside first.
He can go for a walk. Mask hung loosely around his neck, no canes today…it is a good day. Sunglasses. Check. Rescue inhaler in pocket. Check. Army Hat with Unit Patches sewed on it. Check. Favorite handkerchief, so big it could easily host a child’s picnic. Check.
Mental state. Check.
Before the old man goes for his walk, he always makes sure that his mental state is geared to bring a smile, a chuckle, or a soft memory to anyone he might stop to chat with. He readies his mind in case someone steers a gentle “Good Morning. How is your day?” Into a parroting of some kind of downer from News, Politics, or tragedy.
It is a conscious decision the old man makes every day before he starts out on his walk. His goal is to leave anyone he may speak to with a smile, or a laugh. He has three stories, little anecdotes really, that can be shared in a minute or so. Depending on who he runs into, and their age, determines which one he uses to plaster a smile on their face.
One story is about a ninety nine year old man. A Father of one of his close friends. When the Ninety Nine year old man finally was talked into moving into an Assisted Living complex. He loved the tour, and his new apartment. But then…he called his daughter to the Side and whispered to her:
“I love this place, but everyone here is old!”
After the laugh, most people admire how you can feel young at that age.
If someone brings up a tale of woe due to the Corona Virus, well, the old man has a story for that too. Yep. He listens to them rant first, because after all, most people just want to be heard. He just doesn’t fuel it with any vigor to either agree or disagree. He listens and lets you know you were heard.
Then the old man tells a story about one of his friends who responded to his Doctor’s question about whether or not he was following Social Distancing Guidelines in his daily life.
“Doctor, I am seventy seven years old. I have been married for fifty six years. Nobody has touched this body in over a decade.”
That usually gets a laugh, a wave, and the old man walks away.
The old man has many more stories from his grandkids. He uses those as last resorts to move away with a laugh, or smile. Maybe he will tell the stranger (or neighbor) about explaining how old sixty nine is to his five and six year old Grandkids.
“We have to count to ten …six times.”
And they did just that.
“Now, we have to count to nine.”
And they did just that.
After a moment to process how long it took to count to ten six times, and then to nine, his Grandson said:
“Wow, that took a long time. Why are you still alive?"
His grandkids joined in the old man’s laughter.
Then it is back home. A cup of tea. Some toast. Some light reading, or a TED talk on the computer, or music from YouTube. Maybe write a story for StoryStar.
Then emails. Long emails. Emails to past friends who no longer write him…but he likes writing them. Sure it is delusional, but he feels connected…and that is enough. Other emails go to people who actually send replies. Those are more like conversations…and he loves them.
Then it is time for the Phone calls. One call goest to a friend he met on the ships over fifteen years ago. They used to talk once a week. Now? Every day. Why? Because they both got sick and weren’t sure they could talk to each other anymore. Now they talk every day…and know each call could be the last.
The old man calls his best friend once a week. He has been doing that since 1963. Their wives wonder what the heck they talk about that keeps them on the phone for hours…literally…hours. They couldn’t tell their wives either…for they just kind of talk about things.
Then it is time for another nap. Some music for an hour or two…and time to get ready for supper. Another day gone.
An old man’s day.
The Old Man's Day.(Kevin Hughes)
The Old Man’s days blur…as does his reality. It must be his second childhood, because just like the first one, he has long lazy days where only the feeling of a good day lingers…but not the details.
Some things stand out in his day: going to the beach for the first time in three years. His wife’s joy for both him, and her, that they can walk hand in hand on the beach for the first time in years…contained in a single small kiss. One that only forty years of ups and downs, gathered with a thousand memories, a hundred journeys, and hours of ordinary time together can hold. The kiss was earned and deserved. It stay with him all day.
He doesn’t work. His friends all live in different cities. He spends the greater part of every day…alone. But…not lonely. He stacks his days with a blend of present moments, lost moments, and shared moments. His contact with strangers or neighbors limited to his few walks, his emails, and brief conversations.
Take today…it is pretty much like all his other days. It starts the same way: waking up before his wife so he can have her coffee ready when she goes of to work. He sits in the dark until he hears her stir. She asks sleepily : “How are you feeling?”
“A bit better every day.”
She smiles that soft angel smile he adores so much.
“How did you sleep, Honey?”
“Wonderful. I woke up thinking about something Lincoln said that made me laugh.”
She shares that moment with the Old Man. They laugh together. He gets her coffee ready, adds just the right amount of chocolate milk, not cream, and no sugar. A ruffled old piece of aluminum foil get folded over the top of her coffee mug. That keeps the heat in until she is ready for that first sip.
“Ahh…mmm…perfect.”
She thanks the Old Man for making her coffee. They joke about her honor to whatever God invented Coffee…knowing just that one cup will carry her through to lunchtime. He holds the door as she goes out, one hand full of coffee mug, the other hand holding the keys to the truck. Sometimes he sneaks a peck on her cheek as she squeezes by. It make her smile.
“Lock the door behind me!”
He smiles. He has heard that same command a thousand times. He does lock the door. She is off to work. Her day beginning to unfold. He is alone now. And his day is just starting too.
First, back to bed! Lucid dreams fill this first part of his day. He has no money. But in his dreams he is always showing up to help people out when they need some money. Or he pays for their roof. Or for a new washer. Maybe he gets a computer for the kids in the house across the street. Sometimes he takes a car to the shop to get all knew tires, brakes, and shocks…plus a tune up.
He can’t do these things in real life, but he would…if he could. Even though he didn’t help out in real life…the lucid dreams leave him in a good mood. He got to be generous…even if only in his imagination. It is enough. When he wakes up to make his first cup of tea (if you don’t count the one he made in the middle of the night) he checks outside to see how the weather is. Wondering if he can squeeze his walk in before the rains come.
He laughs at himself for reaching for his phone to check the weather. “Jesus, old man, just open the door and step outside.” He wonders, and not for the first time, how dependent he has become on his smartphone, that he reaches for it before looking out a window. He makes a mental note to check the weather outside first.
He can go for a walk. Mask hung loosely around his neck, no canes today…it is a good day. Sunglasses. Check. Rescue inhaler in pocket. Check. Army Hat with Unit Patches sewed on it. Check. Favorite handkerchief, so big it could easily host a child’s picnic. Check.
Mental state. Check.
Before the old man goes for his walk, he always makes sure that his mental state is geared to bring a smile, a chuckle, or a soft memory to anyone he might stop to chat with. He readies his mind in case someone steers a gentle “Good Morning. How is your day?” Into a parroting of some kind of downer from News, Politics, or tragedy.
It is a conscious decision the old man makes every day before he starts out on his walk. His goal is to leave anyone he may speak to with a smile, or a laugh. He has three stories, little anecdotes really, that can be shared in a minute or so. Depending on who he runs into, and their age, determines which one he uses to plaster a smile on their face.
One story is about a ninety nine year old man. A Father of one of his close friends. When the Ninety Nine year old man finally was talked into moving into an Assisted Living complex. He loved the tour, and his new apartment. But then…he called his daughter to the Side and whispered to her:
“I love this place, but everyone here is old!”
After the laugh, most people admire how you can feel young at that age.
If someone brings up a tale of woe due to the Corona Virus, well, the old man has a story for that too. Yep. He listens to them rant first, because after all, most people just want to be heard. He just doesn’t fuel it with any vigor to either agree or disagree. He listens and lets you know you were heard.
Then the old man tells a story about one of his friends who responded to his Doctor’s question about whether or not he was following Social Distancing Guidelines in his daily life.
“Doctor, I am seventy seven years old. I have been married for fifty six years. Nobody has touched this body in over a decade.”
That usually gets a laugh, a wave, and the old man walks away.
The old man has many more stories from his grandkids. He uses those as last resorts to move away with a laugh, or smile. Maybe he will tell the stranger (or neighbor) about explaining how old sixty nine is to his five and six year old Grandkids.
“We have to count to ten …six times.”
And they did just that.
“Now, we have to count to nine.”
And they did just that.
After a moment to process how long it took to count to ten six times, and then to nine, his Grandson said:
“Wow, that took a long time. Why are you still alive?"
His grandkids joined in the old man’s laughter.
Then it is back home. A cup of tea. Some toast. Some light reading, or a TED talk on the computer, or music from YouTube. Maybe write a story for StoryStar.
Then emails. Long emails. Emails to past friends who no longer write him…but he likes writing them. Sure it is delusional, but he feels connected…and that is enough. Other emails go to people who actually send replies. Those are more like conversations…and he loves them.
Then it is time for the Phone calls. One call goest to a friend he met on the ships over fifteen years ago. They used to talk once a week. Now? Every day. Why? Because they both got sick and weren’t sure they could talk to each other anymore. Now they talk every day…and know each call could be the last.
The old man calls his best friend once a week. He has been doing that since 1963. Their wives wonder what the heck they talk about that keeps them on the phone for hours…literally…hours. They couldn’t tell their wives either…for they just kind of talk about things.
Then it is time for another nap. Some music for an hour or two…and time to get ready for supper. Another day gone.
An old man’s day.
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Dr. Frederick Smiley
09/18/2020Hello again Mr. Hughes
What a fine and thought-provoking story you have writen, one that my reading partner (Haishao) and I read twice today. We both were so impressed with the descriptions and dialogue, and we wondered if this person was based on someone you knew or were acquainted. Especially poignant was the writing of how the old man prepared or his walks, as well as his resolve to make other peoples' lives better by his stories and attitude.
Last, another comtributor mentioned you were recovering, so we want to add to those well-wishes.
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Kevin Hughes
09/18/2020Aloha Dr. Smiley and Haishao,
I listed this as a "True Story" for I am well acquainted with the person in the story...for it is I. LOL I am an old man (69 in about a week or so). And yes, that is my daily ritual before I begin my walks...I do not want to add to the anxiety, anger, or vitriol being bandied about by the Media, Politics, and people who don't realize how little of that drama is in their own lives.
I want folks to have a good day. And I don't want them to spoil mine. Sometimes, well, I do loose it and argue back...but those are not common events in my life...anymore. I like to leave laughter, smiles, or maybe even a bit of pondering in my wake. LOL
Very astute observations there Doc- it is indeed a story of myself.
Smiles, Kevin
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Aziz
09/13/2020Very beautiful. Full of wisdom and lessons. A high class writing style along with a strong description approach that reflects the impressive mind of the writer. I do like some expressions in the story, among them I Chose:
alone but not lonely... deep meanings.
I hope you are doing well Sir.
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Kevin Hughes
09/14/2020Aloha Aziz,
I am doing very well, healing much faster than the Doctors predicted. I am almost pain free now most days! And I can walk again. Lovely.
Aziz, you write in three languages, with just as many cultural clones and world views...one of your Ancestors walked the entire Known World ( way farther than Marco Polo did) so you have a rich History of minds as sharp and curious as your own. I do not take your comments lightly, and they are always appreciated.
Smiles, Kevin
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Gail Moore
09/10/2020Wow, awesome story a Kevin. It’s a bit like that here at the moment. We can go to the beach, walk down the road, Hopefully leave this one and that one with a smile. Have a giggle or two with a friend you may meet. I want to do a bit of travelling through NZ but it’s a bit risky at the moment.
Miss four when we told here we were off to the supermarket. “ oh great Poppa, could you please buy me a bag of sugar” lol
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Kevin Hughes
09/10/2020Aloha Gail,
I know what you mean. My Kathy had to cancel her plans to go home to Canada. And she can't even go to our daughter's new house in Atlanta (about six hundred miles from here) - I am just to immunocompromised right now, and she doesn't want to bring anything home. Georgia is one of my countries "hotspots"...so we settle for phone calls and texts.
Grandkids really do brighten your day don't they? One of my friends grandkids asked him if he fought in a War. He said, yes...Vietnam.
His grandkid then asked if that was before or after the Civil War. LOL.
Enjoy those walks, and travel when it is safe!
Smiles, Kevin
COMMENTS (4)