Lunch with Abe---After(Martin Green) 2024AbeLunch1 (Approx. 600 wds.)
Lunch with Abe---After


It was the first time Paul Lerner had been to his retirement community’s restaurant since his wife Sally had passed away three months before. He and Sally had been regular customers and he’d felt it would be too painful to go there without her. His friend Abe Silverman had finally persuaded him so here he was---at luncheon with Abe again. Their veteran waitress Sylvia had taken their orders and then, without saying a word, had done something uncharacteristic, she’d given Paul a hug.

Paul looked around. “Seems to be pretty busy,” he said.
“Yeah, business has been pretty good since the Covid is supposed to be over. So you’re having a hamburger?”
“Yeah, it’s been a while.”
“You’ve lost some weight.”
“I didn’t have much appetite but it’s coming back.”
“How’s the sleeping?”
“So, so. I never know how it’s going to be.”
“And still feeling tired?”
“Yeah, I guess so. I usually have a nap in the afternoon.”
“Naps are good.”

Abe had lost his own wife, Sarah, three years before. He knew what happened after. Paul had been surprised, not by his loss of appetite and sleep problems, he’d expected that, but by the physical effect it had had on him. It was like having a bad cold, or maybe like Covid, he just felt miserable all the time.

Sylvia brought them their orders, the hamburger for Paul and a salad for Abe. Abe had had a heart attack a few years before and Sylvia insisted that he eat healthy. “How’s the paperwork coming?” asked Abe.
“It’s endless. It’s amazing it’s something so simple, essentially just taking Sally’s name off all the things we had together. But with everything there are documents and more documents to sign. Would you believe it, I have to have a notary witness my signature to change the title of our trust. The law office is sending one over. I also found out all those things the lawyer is doing will cost me money.”
“Yeah, any time an attorney is involved it gets expensive. How about the IRAs? Have you got that settled?”
“Yeah, finally. They were able to transfer Sally’s IRA to mine and make the distribution before the deadline. They also needed a notary for that.”
“And the social security?”
“That was the first thing that happened; they froze Sally’s last payment. I guess that eventually they’ll take it back.”
“You can count on that.”
“Oh, and I looked at the taxes for this year.”
“Prepare to be shocked.”
“I was. I was amazed at how much your taxes go up when you can’t file a joint return.”
“The IRS has no mercy for widowers.”

At this point a woman came over to their table and patted Paul on the shoulder. “Oh, hi, Betty,” he said.
“I heard about Sally,” she said. “I’m so sorry. How are you doing?”
“I’m doing okay,” Paul said.
“Good. Well, if I can do anything, just let me know.”
“Sure.”

When Betty left, Paul said, “What can you say when people ask you how you’re doing? I’m really not doing okay.”
“I know.” Abe shrugged. “And they all ask if they can do anything for you and then you never hear from them again. It’s human nature, I suppose. Everyone has their own life to lead.”

They’d finished their meals. Abe had picked up Paul and now he drove him back to his house. Paul felt tired. He’d lie down and maybe have a nap.
“Any other words of wisdom?” he asked Abe as he got out of the car.
“Yeah, you might not believe it but in time it will get better.”
No, thought Paul. He didn’t believe that.

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