Next week, I'm taking you to Ed's house to spend some time with him.

     To this, Anthony said, "No."  I told him why, but he still resisted entertaining the idea.  When I brought it up to him again later in front of Russ, Anthony looked at his dad and asked, "Don't you think Mim's crazy wanting us to go to some guy's house who she met in a park?!?!"  Russ' reply was, "Actually, No.  I think it's a good idea."

     Wow.  It's so nice to have a husband supporting me in life and parenting.  I am thankful for him in many ways, and I know that raising boys is outside of my understanding at times.  So, to have him beside me can be paramount.  Like times I want my sons to go with me to a stranger's house.

     I talked with my Momma about the man, Ed, I met yesterday.  I had seen him slowly walking with a wide, unsure gait into the park along the paved walkway.  His caregiver, "D," was behind him with his cane in case his journey got to be too much.  I began the 1st part of my workout, walking lunges, and then moved onto my run.  As I ran past the bench he'd stopped to sit on, I held out my hand for a high five.  His caretaker gave me one, but he didn't register what I was doing until I'd passed him.  I ended with some squats, and then began walking to cool down and shake out my quads.  I started toward my truck but felt prompting in my heart to go talk with him.  So, I veered back on the path and walked to his bench.  "D" was sitting on the end, he was about 2 feet from her, and there was about a foot of the bench left on his right.  As I approached, I said, "We need a do-over!"  I held out my hand, and he awkwardly held his hand up sideways to give me my high (low) five.  :)  I then sat next to him, on that small part of the bench, and he put his head on my shoulder.  I talked a little and listened to him for about an hour as I sat there beside him.

     He was SO cute.  If you ask my boys, they'd tell you, "Mim LOVES old men!"  It's a little joke with them for some reason; they think it's funny.  Well, I do.  There's just something about old men.  I look at their faces weathered by age and life experiences and try to picture that ornery little boy that grew into the now frail man.  How they must've stood so tall and proud next to their young brides.  How they were bread winners and made their wives feel safe at night or every time they were wrapped in those strong arms.  Those "old men" were once making this country thrive!  They were the workforce and pioneers in their fields.  They were valuable, contributing members of society.  Then somewhere at some time, they get lost in the mix.  Their kids were out of the house stripping them of daily, fatherly duties.  They retired with pensions and pride only to settle into a time of restlessness.  How do they fit in and where?  I love old men because I can see a longing in them to belong again to something important and worthy.  I'm not saying they're all depressed, walking zombies, but our society doesn't really have a place for them to thrive and really LIVE.  They often kind of exist from one task, appointment, block in the schedule to the next.  :(

     So, I learned Ed was from St. Louis.  He was one of 12 kids, 7 boys and 5 girls.  They lived in town and had a wood business.  They sold wood to stores, bakeries and families.  Two brothers joined the Army in WWII, two went into the Navy, and he with another brother went into the Marine Corps.  (YUT!)  He married Betty (boo with eyes of blue) at 18 and went to war with air defense in the Pacific.  When he got back, they bought a house here, and he worked a little at the electric company, was a fireman, and worked many other jobs (usually always had two at a time)He is STILL in the house that he bought new in 1944!  He plays guitar, and his wife played piano.  They loved to play together.  She passed away three months ago.  THREE months ago. :'(  Can you IMAGINE?  72 years married!!  Then, she's gone.  Who are you when your partner for 72 years is gone?  I've only been married 16 years in July, and I can see where one part of Russ is woven into a part of me masking any kind of beginning or end.  I get a surge of excitement in my stomach when we are listening to music and suddenly start singing at the exact same time.  It's that fabric getting knit tighter and tighter.  ;)  Ed is still part of the Vets group, but one by one, his friends are dying.  Ed IS 90, but it's not easy.  These men were with him, like his wife, 72 years ago and have been ever since.  He commented on how one man in particular was the one who filled in all of the memories for them.  "Whitey" would remember so many details the other hadn't stopped to take in.  They were in war after all.  Those men have become more like family.
   
     "D" said Ed was having a hard time getting up and out of the house.  "Sometimes he just wants to sit on the couch all day, but that's not good for him."  Ed was sitting right next to me; don't talk to me like I'm his nurse taking report, "D."  He's listening.  He's depressed.  Can you imagine?  Of course these pains that haven't existed before three months ago have surfaced.  Pains in his shoulder he swears must be from busting down all of those doors in those house fires.  A pain in his shin from getting a cleat in his leg (when they were metal spikes) as a high schooler.  "Put your hand on my shoulder here.  Feel it?  Feel all of the clicking?"  Yes, I felt it.  It feels like my knees.  ;)  But, I think the pain is also just having lost his wife- who brightened his face even in her absence.  It's easier to talk about physical pains than it is to talk about emotions and broken hearts.  It  makes me think of when Starks just lost his train of thought on the p-bars routine in competition and forgot to dismount.  "My wrist hurts!"  He couldn't really put to words all he was feeling, but he could say his wrist hurt.  That gave him a grace period from further questions.  He was really disappointed, frustrated, angry, upset, etc.  The list goes on.  Ed's shoulder hurts, that's why he doesn't want to leave the house.  Ed's shin is sore, so he can't walk outside the neighborhood he walked around with his wife for 70 years.  Breaks my heart.

     Ed told me his address.  He described to me exactly where his house was and the layout on the block.  He asked me to come visit him, and his blue eyes sparkled when he did.  The anticipation of company made him smile.  I told him that I would.  He gestured to shake my hand as we began ending our time and conversation.  I, of course, told him I wouldn't shake his hand but wanted a hug instead.  He laughed.  If you know me well, you know I love hugs.  "You didn't grow up here, did you?"  "No, I grew up in Ohio."  "I knew it.  People from the midwest are always friendlier and will stop to talk to other people."  That made me smile!  So, he stood up on those legs that he wasn't confident in.  Would they cause him to fall back to the bench or would they stand firm?  Well, they stood firm enough to give me a hug!  He said "You're strong!"  That made me smile again.  Then, he went one way home, and I went to my truck.

     I don't think it's too crazy to take my boys there next week, if only for an hour at a time.  Ed is just too cute to not spend another moment with him.  I think there's such value in blending generations.  I was not comfortable around my grandmom because she just wasn't nice, and I knew she didn't like kids.  Her house was full of things I didn't care about- doilies, flower patterned everything, and knick knacks out the wazoo.  However, I bet if she had actually spent time with me, talking and sharing with me, I'd have related to her and those things.  Chas is, of course, excited to meet Ed because Chas sees how happy I was having met him.  Plus, Chas is just so awesome that way.  He's comfortable with and loves being with adults.  Anthony's still on the fence, but he'll go.  There will be negotiating, I'm sure, on the way about how long we'll stay.  I'm hoping he'll forget about it once he's there.  I pray Anthony will be an old man someday.  I hope he's surrounded by all of the people that love him.  I hope someone takes the time to sit with him, listen to his stories, and recognize that he exists- not pass him by as if unseen.