"The Park"
Some would say that it was a beautiful day. He finally saw the joy, the lust of the warm summer day; the annoying people that crowded his air, his space, his life, didn’t seem to matter anymore. He sat on the edge of the park, where it was usually quite peaceful. Today, however, was booming with life because it was the first day of summer and everyone in the city decided to be out. He was out everyday, without fail, to watch the birds or the trees or the rain or the snow falling. Nothing could keep him away from his spot in the park.
The old man had done this routine for years and every summer was the same, a boom in the pestering population of people. Today was different, today he knew would be his last. As he sat, he always had a cigarette in hand and after smoking three pack of cigarettes a day for forty years, it had finally taken its toll.
He sat unchanging most of the time, with the same expressionless face and no sudden movement to catch the eye of most who passed, only the morning joggers noticed and some routinely wave as they passed. He did not usually wave back, but today he did. The regular who he waved at took notice and as she had passed him hundreds of times before knew something was different. She smiled and stopped to say “hello” to the man.
She was fit for her age and looked only thirty-five, compared to the man's old age of sixty-three. She looked down to the man who looked up to her, and, with the feeling that she had broken into his heart somehow, asked what the gentleman’s name was. He replied the name, Andrew and she told him hers.
The woman asked why he had finally waved back to her after so many times of ignorance. His reply was simple, “I have overlooked in my lifetime many of the things I will soon miss and love. I know its cliche to say that ‘it’s better late than never to get in with the lord.’” She knew exactly what he meant, she knew that this man was facing his end, and, most importantly, she knew she would miss him.
She would miss a figure so common to her jogging pattern; she would miss a figure she had never thought had cared of her before; she would miss him and had never known his name.
He asked her if she would care to sit and watch the day go by as he had done for so many years. She accepted his invitation and sat in silence with the old gentlemen for many hours until she finally got up. She said, “Goodbye Andrew, I don’t know if you have anyone else in this world but please know one thing, I will miss you.”
As she turned to jog away he gave her a small piece of advise. “I feel as if I’ve known you for years and I ask one small favor of you, don’t live your life as I have mine, live for the day and do not sit in silence until your time is up. Thank you my dear, and goodbye.” She turned and walked away, he put out his last cigarette and got up and walked to his home.
She dreaded her next morning jog, and as she went through her usual pattern of paths she came to the bench at which Andrew had always sat. It was empty. She sat down on the other side of where he usually sat, and where she sat the day before, and wept. She stopped crying when she remembered his last word, she got up again and continued her life.
The old man had done this routine for years and every summer was the same, a boom in the pestering population of people. Today was different, today he knew would be his last. As he sat, he always had a cigarette in hand and after smoking three pack of cigarettes a day for forty years, it had finally taken its toll.
He sat unchanging most of the time, with the same expressionless face and no sudden movement to catch the eye of most who passed, only the morning joggers noticed and some routinely wave as they passed. He did not usually wave back, but today he did. The regular who he waved at took notice and as she had passed him hundreds of times before knew something was different. She smiled and stopped to say “hello” to the man.
She was fit for her age and looked only thirty-five, compared to the man's old age of sixty-three. She looked down to the man who looked up to her, and, with the feeling that she had broken into his heart somehow, asked what the gentleman’s name was. He replied the name, Andrew and she told him hers.
The woman asked why he had finally waved back to her after so many times of ignorance. His reply was simple, “I have overlooked in my lifetime many of the things I will soon miss and love. I know its cliche to say that ‘it’s better late than never to get in with the lord.’” She knew exactly what he meant, she knew that this man was facing his end, and, most importantly, she knew she would miss him.
She would miss a figure so common to her jogging pattern; she would miss a figure she had never thought had cared of her before; she would miss him and had never known his name.
He asked her if she would care to sit and watch the day go by as he had done for so many years. She accepted his invitation and sat in silence with the old gentlemen for many hours until she finally got up. She said, “Goodbye Andrew, I don’t know if you have anyone else in this world but please know one thing, I will miss you.”
As she turned to jog away he gave her a small piece of advise. “I feel as if I’ve known you for years and I ask one small favor of you, don’t live your life as I have mine, live for the day and do not sit in silence until your time is up. Thank you my dear, and goodbye.” She turned and walked away, he put out his last cigarette and got up and walked to his home.
She dreaded her next morning jog, and as she went through her usual pattern of paths she came to the bench at which Andrew had always sat. It was empty. She sat down on the other side of where he usually sat, and where she sat the day before, and wept. She stopped crying when she remembered his last word, she got up again and continued her life.