A Visit From Abe---Three Years After

2026VisitAbe

A Visit From Abe---Three Years After

     Paul Lerner’s friend Abe Silverman had come over to watch tennis, the French Open, on TV with him.  Paul and Abe had met when they’d both joined the tennis club at the Northern California retirement community they’d moved to, had become tennis partners and then best friends.  Paul was now 95 and Abe almost 90 and Paul sometimes reflected that Abe was about the only friend at the retirement community that he hadn’t outlived.

     “Sinner has  to find a way to play in the heat or he’ll miss out on a lot of major wins,” said Abe.  “To bad Paris had to have a heat wave just in time for the Open.”

     “Paris can get pretty hot,” said Paul.  “The last time Beverly and I were there it was hot.  We walked along the Champs Elysees and in all the outdoor cafes people were eating ice cream.”  Beverly was Paul’s wife, who’d been gone now for three years.  For a long time Paul hadn’t been able to talk about her without tearing up but now he could.

     After the Sinner match, in which Sinner had lost in five sets, they watched a little more tennis, then Paul went to the kitchen to get them cold drinks, using his walker.  “That walker comes in pretty handy,” said Abe.

     “Yes.  The walker is an old guy’s best  friend.  I use it when I do the laundry.  I put the dirty clothes in the compartment under the seat to get them to the washer.  Takes me two trips but I won’t fall.”

     “How are you doing?” asked Abe.  “Coping alright?”

     “Yeah.  Human beings are adaptable; that’s how we’ve survived so long.  So I’ve adapted.  What else can I do?”

     “So you’re okay?”

     “As okay as I can be, I guess.  Sometimes I start crying for no particular reason.  Basically it’s because Beverly isn’t here.  Maybe sometimes it’s self-pity.  An old guy rattling around in an empty house.”

     Paul and Abe sipped their cold drinks and talked about what was going on in the world.  They agreed that Trump was as obnoxious as ever and that he was being playd by the Iranians for a fool.  They also agreed that the Democrats were beyond hopeless.

     When Abe left Paul walked with him, using the walker, to the door.  “I’ll call you next week,” said Abe.  He reached out and touched Paul’s hand.  “You know I’m there for you.”  Then he turned and walked back to his car.  Paul watched him, an old bentover guy like himself.  He’d been surprised by Abe’s gesture.  Abe wasn’t a sentimental guy.

     Paul went back to his chair.  He was tired.  It might be time for his afternoon nap.  His eyes started to tear.  He didn’t know why.

###