My Constant, Unwavering Friend

When I look back through my life, I realize there was only one person who remained constant. My parents died when I was young. It’s not a heartbreaking thing, since I don’t really remember them. I suppose I felt a longing for a life I never lived, a childhood where I wasn’t looked at with pity. Still, I learned to live my life regardless. Most of my friends came and went with the seasons, stopping to create memories and share experiences but never staying long enough to reminisce on them. Partners only stayed long enough to break my heart, provide fodder for my journals, and dwindle my bank accounts. My therapist thinks I have abandonment issues. I like to think I’m just a realist. Not everyone is meant to stay in your life forever. I believe the only constant someone had in life was themselves.

I was wrong.

I met my constant, unwavering friend, on a warm summer’s day in the park. On a bench. Crying my heart out.

******

I tried not to let breakups affect me. I felt stupid crying over someone, especially if they could so easily throw me away. Even more so if I was the one that threw them away. Most of the time a good pint of ice cream, a movie that could make me believe in love again, and a playlist of songs to dance (or rage) to, was all it took to make me feel good. Great, even. I would be swiping left within 48 hours.

This was not like most times.

It had been a whopping 120 hours since the breakup and I was still crying. It was honestly a record at that point; having broken my previous record of 72 hours (16-year-old me didn't know what hit her).

I made my way to my favorite park, hoping the fresh air and scenery would help me. I was cursing my therapist along the way and planning how I was going to lord over her the fact that I was right; everybody does leave. At that point, I still held fast to my delusion that I did not have abandonment issues.

I walked along the path surrounding the lake and plopped myself onto the third bench in a row of three. I avoided the first one, not making eye contact as I walked past it. That bench was Thomas’ favorite. The bastard.

Tears had already begun welling up on the walk over and I let them flow freely as I stared out towards the lake. Strangers passed me by, ignoring the pathetic woman crying in the middle of the day.

I was searching in my purse for my wad of tissues when I saw a flash of white in my peripheral. I glanced up and was metwith a single tissue hovering in front of my face. Looking beyond the tissue, my eyes scanned up from a wrinkled hand, to a wrinkled arm, and lastly to a wrinkled face. An older gentleman stood beside my bench, his shoulder and back drooped down towards the ground and his other hand braced on a cane. He provided me with a soft smile; a warm smile. The kind of smile that reached the eyes.

“No use crying on a day as nice as this one, sweetheart.” He stated, continuing to hold out the tissue as his hand started to shake with the effort. Normally, I would bristle at the word sweetheart. I was nobody’s sweetheart. But from him, this stranger with the kind smile, it felt only natural for him to call me sweetheart. As if he’d been doing it forever.

I straightened up in my seat, abandoning the search of my purse. I grabbed the tissue from him gently, dabbing my eyes dry and blowing my nose.

“Thank you.” I motioned with the tissue in my hand.

He used his now free hand to get a firmer grasp on the cane. Despite the aid, he was still a little unsteady on his feet.

I scooched over to the far end of the bench, collecting my purse into my lap.

“Here, you can have a seat if you want.” I surprised myself with this offer. Normally my time at the park was a solitary one. I tended to avoid interactions with anyone else and chose the park benches that were the most secluded.

He shuffled the last few feet and used the cane to lower himself into the seat. He signified the task as complete with a “humph” of effort escaping his lips.

“Ah.” He sighed out. “Thank you. These bones are not what they used to be.” He pivoted his torso towards me. “Now, what is making a pretty lady such as yourself cry so hard like you just were.”

My cheeks bloomed red and grew hot. I’m not sure why I was embarrassed; I was the one who decided to go out in a very public place and start very publicly crying.

“If you tell me it’s about some silly little boy, then I might have to hit you with this ol’ cane of mine.”

I couldn’t help but give a half smile at the not-so-veiled threat of harm.

“There you go!” He swung the cane and the tip of it tapped the side of my shoe. “You were born to smile. I can see that in you. That’s a smile that could solve world peace, that is.”

I let out a small chuckle at the thought.

He threw himself back into the bench seat, one hand clutching onto his chest. Panic started to rise as I began to think about how I should have paid attention in CPR class.

“And that laugh!” He continued clutching his chest as his eyes looked towards the heavens. “That laugh could do more than solve world peace, young lady. That could bring hope to generations.”

The panic died down as I realized I was not about to perform life-saving measures for some old man I just met. I stared over at him incredulously. This old man. This stranger, who, in a matter of seconds, had given me more meaningful compliments than my last partner gave me in months.

“Who are you?” I laughed out. It was the only question I could think to ask at the moment.

He reached out his hand in greeting. “The name’s Bernard. Bernie to my friends.” I grasped his hand and was met with a surprisingly firm handshake.

“It’s nice to meet you, Bernie.” I decided then that I would be glad to call this old man my friend. “I’m Lucy.”

“Lovely name. Lucy.” Bernie contemplated for a second. “Now, what’s got you down today?”

I told him. I told him about the “silly little boy” that broke my heart. He did not hit me with his cane when I told him, although I flinched away just in case. I told him about the job that was stressing me out. He told me to just quit. I told him about the novel I was trying to write. He told me to just write it.

He told me about himself, too. His love for the park and how he walks it daily. His grandchildren that were scattered throughout the country. He told me about his first love, Denice, who broke his heart when he was only 5 years old and about his true love, Alberta, who helped give him his grandchildren.

We talked for a while that day. By the end of our conversation, I was feeling better than any therapy session I had ever been to. I told him as much too.

“Well, how much are you paying your fancy therapist?” He asked.

“With insurance, probably $100 a session.”

“Well, shit. I’ll take that in twenties if you got them.” I laughed and he cracked a smile.

“No, no. I won’t make you pay that. I’ll take my payment in candy next time I see ya.”

“That sounds like a deal to me, Bernie.” We shook on it. “What kind of candy am I buying you?”

“I like to stick to the cliche Lucy, so I’ll take some caramel candies.”

“You got it, Bernie.” I stood up from the bench. “I’ll give you the whole pack next time I see you.”

******

I made my way back to the park the next afternoon, caramel candies in tow. I was thankfully not crying this time. After my first talk with Bernie, I didn’t feel the need to cry again.

I caught him approaching as he slowly shuffled up to me. I made room for him on the bench and he took his seat.

“Lucy, my friend. Back again so soon.”

I reached into my purse and pulled out the bag of candy. “I like to pay my debts on time, Bernie.”

His eyes lit up as he reached for the bag. “Ah, you lovely thing. You got the big bag too I see.”

“Only the best.” He struggled to grip the bag and pry it open. I reprimanded myself for not opening it for him first. As I debated asking if he needed help, he thrust the bag back towards me.

“Here sweetheart, would you mind? These old hands are not what they used to be.”

“Not at all.” I popped the bag open and handed it back to him.

“Thank you, Lucy.” He grabbed two out of the bag and placed one in my hand.

“I like to share the wealth.”

“Alright, Bernie. Last we spoke, you were going to give me sage advice on relationships.”

“Yes, I was. A lady like you should not stay single for long. I’ll tell you what worked with my lovely wife, Alberta.” His eyes sparkled when he spoke of her, although there was a tinge of sadness surrounding it too.

“We met in 1962. I was 18 years old and had just started my freshman year of college.”

“We had English class together. Oh, she was a vision. I was enraptured from the moment I saw her, Lucy. I was too shy to do anything about it, of course.” He shook his head at the thought. “To think, we could have had even more years together if I would have just spoken up sooner.” He paused, indulging in the extra moments they could have shared.

“I made sure to sit beside her for each class. One day, she was one of the last ones to show up. Most of the seats were taken and some fellow tried sitting in the open seat beside me. I ended up bribing the guy that I would write his next essay if he’d switch seats to another chair. Alberta arrived just as the guy took the only other empty chair so she came and sat beside me. I think I got the guy an A on his paper.” He expressed proudly.

“Anyways, I finally got the courage to ask her to proofread my essay. We started talking after that and became the best of friends. I knew I loved her within weeks, but of course, I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.” He reached down and pulled out two more caramels, handing me one.

“We were walking around inside this park when she kissed me.” He smiled widely at that thought.

“So, wait. She kissed you first?” I asked, invested in the tale he was weaving.

“Oh yeah!” He chuckled. “I was too much of a wimp to do it myself. She told me that after the fact too. She said she knew I would never do it first so she figured she would just get it out of the way.”

“She sounds like my kind of girl.”

“Oh yes. I already know you guys would have gotten along.” He had made comments throughout talking with him that he was a widow. The reason why his smiles and tales about her were sewn through with grief.

“We were able to share 53 amazing years together. She gave me 4 beautiful children and those children gave us 10 wonderful grandchildren.”

“So, according to you Bernie, I should find a guy and kiss him in this park and I’ll find my happily ever after?”

He tapped my shoe with his cane. “Now you’re getting it, kid.”

******

Much to my surprise, I did end up finding a guy to kiss in that very park. We met while I was walking along the lake, listening to my music, and his frisbee smacked me in the back of the head.

He was a gentleman, of course. Offered to buy me a cup of coffee to apologize. We spent the next few days hanging out. We made it back to the park for a picnic and I pulled him towards me and kissed him. I figured if Alberta could do it, then I could too.

We spent the next few months dating. I continued my unofficial therapy sessions with Bernie at our favorite bench. I had been dating Lucas for 6 months when I decided to bring him along to meet Bernie. Since I didn’t have parents for him to meet, I figured Bernie was the next best thing.

Bernie beat us to the bench and was waiting when I approached with Lucas.

“Hello, old man,” I said. “This is Lucas.”

Bernie looked him up and down, with a disapproving gaze.

“So. This is him.” He said gruffly, adding more bass to his voice than usual.

“Yes, it is.” I nudged Lucas closer and he extended his hand towards Bernie.

“It’s nice to meet you, sir.” Bernie responded with a limp handshake.

Lucas pulled a familiar bag of candy out of his jacket pocket and extended them out to Bernie.

“These are for you, sir. I heard they’re your favorite.” Bernie looked at the bag with disgust and Lucas began to nervously look over towards me.

A moment later Bernie cracked a large grin. “I’m just messing with you, boy.” He snatched the candy out of his hands.

“He’s not going to make you cry like the last one is he?” Bernie asked. I gasped and then lightly smacked him on the arm.

“Bernie, chill. We don’t talk about the last one anymore.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “You’re right, you’re right.” He shot daggers over to Lucas. “You’re not going to make her cry like the last one. Right?” He said, with the blatant threat laced through the question.

Lucas shook his head. “I wouldn’t dream of it, sir.”

******

He actually did make me cry, just four months later. We were doing our usual walk through the park when Lucas turned towards me and got down on one knee. Although we’d only been together 10 months, I knew he was the one. I cried out a “Yes!” and the crowd surrounding us exploded in applause.

“Lucy girl!” I whirled around to the familiar voice. Bernie hobbled over towards me with flowers in hand. “I knew he was a good one.”

“Bernie! I didn’t know you’d be here.” I wiped the tears away as I enveloped him in a hug. He winced slightly and I backed off.

“Of course, sweetheart. Lucas gave me the heads up so I could get here early.” He waved off my concerned face. “I’m fine, Lucy. This body is just not what it used to be. But, I will put my hat in the ring now for being your flower girl.”

******

Bernie made it to my wedding. We dressed up his cane in white paper and attached flowers to it as he walked me down the aisle. It might not have been the fastest walk to the pulpit but I wouldn’t have changed it for the world.

Bernie was there for all the other major events. He was one of the first ones into the room when my Charlotte was born. I had him sit on the bench and watch as she began taking her first steps. As Charlotte’s walking grew more steady and turned to running, Bernie’s became more slow. He began to struggle to make it to the middle of the park where our favorite bench was. Instead, we met at the beginning. His body began to fail him in those final days but his mind never did. He was still as smart as a whip and was always telling tales about his life. He continued to give me compliments;compliments that not even Lucas could top. He told me how my “world peace” saving smile was copied onto Charlotte’s face and how she and I were unstoppable forces in this world.

I began to sob, Lucas’ hand rubbing my back and Charlotte hugging my legs. I look out towards the park, a sea of people in black staring back at me.

“He truly loved this place.” I look down to the urn on the podium where I’m standing.

“Bernie touched so many hearts and souls. I know my speech was long-winded. Bernie would have told me to come up for air once and a while.” A smattering of laughter rose from the crowd.

“He was my constant in this life. My unwavering friend. The only comfort I have is that I know Bernie is now with his dear Alberta.” I fold up my papers and take my seat in the front row. Bernie’s daughter clasps my hands as a new round of tears well up.

His oldest daughter stands up, facing the crowd. “Thank you all for coming. I know my dad would have loved having you all here. He would have given candy to every body.”

I smiled at the comment, looking down at the almost empty bag in my purse.

******

I still visited the park every day. I would watch Charlotte and Lucas from my favorite bench, this time with smiles and laughter instead of crying. The plaque on the bench was warm against my back.

It read: For Bernie. Whose smile could solve world peace.