Went to visit a loved one at the rehab center (for people recovering/living with injury/illness) a few weeks back. We were waiting at the sidewalk of the loading zone for the transportation van to come.
There were other people in wheelchairs, waiting in groups for their transportation van. Some were talking amongst themselves, a few were lost in their own world, and others were people-watching; a generally pleasant atmosphere. My group was conversing, laughing; the usual shenanigans for a close-knit bunch.
But then I felt these eyes, this unnamable energy. So I looked around for who it might be coming from. Apart and further inside the curb sat a lone elderly man, watching us; it was his vibe I had felt.
His eyes were still on the surface, tumultuous within. He had a shock of thinning white hair, and his skin was creped paper and colored with age spots. The man’s frame suggested that he must have been sturdy and wiry once. Now his thinning body was neatly bundled up in a forest-green fleece zip-up. His presence was quiet and dignified as he sat, hands on his lap and elbows resting on the arms of his wheelchair. One hand held a simple brown paper bag, another clutched a walking cane.
He stared as our group joked and jostled good-naturedly. I tried to brush him off as just another casual observer, tried supposing that he was only simply thinking about what he would have for lunch and that his eyes had happened to rest upon our group. But all the while his presence was completely different from the others that waited around us; his eyes lost, yet alert, soaking up the love and interaction that perhaps seemed familiar.
A while later, the man’s van came and he was, curiously, its lone passenger. As the vehicle pulled out I could see from the corner of my eye, his singular silhouette, back upright, hands neatly holding his brown paper bag and cane. Proud as he was, his head still turned slightly to catch a last glimpse of us. The intensity of his lonely gaze burned through the window as the van drove away.
