Our trip to Washington
At the Beach in Port Townsend
"A writer's heart, a poet's heart, and artist's heart, a musician's heart is always breaking.
It it through that broken window that we see the world"...
Riding in the passenger seat, I looked out the window to see an older man with a long beard enhanced with thin streaks of silver, he wore a red baseball cap to cover his head. His window was opened to the world walking on the sidewalk below. The sun shined into his rented room atop the restaurants and businesses in downtown Santa Rosa. He leaned back in his chair taking it all in. I lifted my hand, shyly waving at him from the car. He caught my wave, smiling he waved back with great spirit. My sister turned to me, saying "oh, that man is waving at you". I said "yes, I waved first."
I find myself connecting with people in small ways.
The other day, in the town of Petaluma. I parked the car in front of a restaurant I have frequented often through the years. The first time I went with my friend Dian, almost twenty years ago. We ordered the Soba Noodles with Green Curry Sauce and the Noodles with Peanut Sauce. I've ordered both dishes several times since then with my sister and my nephew, and by myself. Last year, I introduced Scott to the restaurant. He chose the soba noodles, we shared the plate, large enough for two. I remember having a strawberry Italian soda.
This time, the restaurant was closed except for take-out. I didn't go in. I left the car heading the opposite direction to the post office to buy stamps, On the way, I noticed a frail tall woman with a tight crown of white permed hair, she held a cup of coffee in one hand as she sat by herself on a bench in front of one of the many businesses that have permanently shut down during COVID. She looked to be in her eighties. As I passed by, I looked into her eyes, they were vacantly searching the streets and downtown before her. I smiled through my mask and said hello. She awoke from her dream, smiling a hello back to me.
Since losing Scott, my empathy and compassion has expanded to include people I would have walked right by, never noticed, or paid any attention to.
Not anymore. I look out now, looking for the invisible. I want to touch people and connect and let them know they are not ghosts walking the earth unseen.