I Called Him Walter

I am a walker...always have been, and always will be. (This isn't a neighborhood where I've walked, but I like the photo).  The main reason I love to walk, is that you get a look at what many don't see...and along with that, a perspective that I know I definitely wouldn't have, had I not "been there." An example....

I called him Walter. I walked by Walter's house for years when visiting a friend, and eventually over time, I noticed subtle changes. What was once sharp and well-kept, became shabby and unkempt. Weeds grew in the yard, the house needed a coat of paint, and windows once open to the world, were now, often, shuttered and dark.

I would catch a glimpse of Walter, every now and then, as I walked by. Late in the day, he usually sat by the window, in the dark. I didn't see the glow from a television, and lamps were never on, so he couldn't have been reading. His shock of white hair grew longer, and shaggier, but I never caught a glimpse of his face.

I so badly wanted to stop, and if you read my blog, you know that I've done that. I choose to do that, though, very carefully and (I hope) wisely, and my instincts, were to keep walking. This was the one, though, that tore me apart. He was always in the dark, and always alone. How very sad that his family, evidently, didn't have the time, the energy, or the willingness, to make sure his last years weren't spent in the dark, sitting at a window.

There was a very old swing set in the yard, so I assumed there were adult children, somewhere. Did they send him jellies for Christmas, along with a subscription to Reader's Digest, some warm socks, and a little money? Maybe they even went so far as to visit at Christmas, or have him over for dinner; but if they did, it didn't come close to permeating that layer of lonely, that I saw.

Today's a gloomy day, and sometimes, a little gloom is good for the soul. And, sometimes, it permeates every nook and cranny, as one waits for the sun to shine.