Another Day in the Park

John Solum looked up to the ceiling of his tiny blue room. He had put a poster that said “Live everyday like it is your last” on the ceiling the day before. John hoped that the poster would provide a miraculous experience and make him at least a bit more excited for each new day. Looking up at the sign, he realized that he was no more motivated than the day before. The long and gloomy day that lied ahead ran through his mind. Ever since moving to London from Iowa, everyday felt like this for John. His mediocre finance job transferred him a month ago to the city; everyone thought this would be great for him. However, John was a country boy at heart. He longed for beautiful open space, a backyard filled with horses and a simple cattle farm. It didn’t help that John was diagnosed with social anxiety disorder and was forced to navigate London without the help of his family. It was as if the world hated John. The world’s revenge was moving him to a foreign town, in a foreign country with foreign people. However, there was no choice—John would have to get through the day. He finally got out of his bed and gave the poster on the ceiling one final look. He threw on some jeans and a t-shirt, put on shoes and was out the door.

 One of the only things John liked about London was Hyde Park because the scenic, green fields reminded him of home. He hopped on the bus and got to the park around 10am. He went to his normal bench: the one next to the big oak tree with a swing on it. He then took out his newspaper. After about 30 minutes, he began to notice something peculiar in the park. About 20 feet away, there was a man hysterically crying on the ground. His face touched the soft, showery grass as his feet kicked a pile of crunchy fallen leaves. It was as if the man was having a mental breakdown and the sight simply made John feel uncomfortable. “Who would make such a scene in public?” John thought to himself. “He’s probably just crazy.”

Suddenly a woman with striking blonde curls rushed to the aid of the man. She spoke to him and after about ten minutes the man sat up, stared at the woman, and hugged her. They both stood up and parted ways; the woman went towards the parking lot and the man went towards the bench where John sat. 

“Oh shit,” thought John. “He’s coming right towards me.” John began to panic as he usually did with social interaction. His young face became flushed, his palms began to sweat uncontrollably, and his foot rapidly tapped the ground. The man approached with tears still in his eyes. He seemed to be around 60 years old with a snow colored beard, glasses that covered his beady eyes and a bright orange shirt. He was an odd looking man to say the least. John continued to read his newspaper so he did not have to start a conversation with the old man. After five minutes, the man started to bawl again. Tears rushed down his wrinkled face, his eyes became bright red and his cheeks puffy. As much as John did not want to get involved, he knew something had to be done.

“Are you ok?” John whispered while making no eye contact with the old man.

“I will be fine. Thank you,” the old man replied.

John decided not to respond. He had at least tried to help and that was good enough for him. However, after two minutes of complete silence the man said to John, “I just off the phone with the hospital. My wife just died unexpectedly. I don’t have any other family. I don’t know how this could happen to me.”

“Sorry to hear that,” John replied.

“How could this be? I go to church every Sunday, volunteer at a homeless shelter and this is how God repays me? By taking away the one and only thing I truly loved! How can I move on from this? What is even the point of moving on?” the man cried out. 

            At this point, John wanted to go. This conversation was just too much for him to handle. However, his poor wife just died. How could he leave this man sobbing on the bench without feeling guilty? And so John replied, again not making any eye contact, “Eventually it will be ok.”

“I am not sure about that but hopefully that comes true,” the man responded.

And with that the man got up and left. No goodbyes were said and no eye contact was made. John watched the man stumble away with tears still rushing down the side of his face. 

“Well, that was odd,” John thought to himself. With that, John continued to read his newspaper. 

            The next day, John awoke from his bed and repeated the same routine he did the day before. He looked at his poster and hoped that it would do some good. He got dressed and went to the park. He sat on the same bench next to the same tree with the same swing. For some reason, something felt different. John could not stop thinking about the old man from yesterday. All he knew about him was that his wife died. He didn’t know how his wife passed away, where the couple was from or even the old man’s name. Yet, even with the lack of information, John felt an unusual connection to the old man. It was something that he had never felt before: he cared for this stranger and wished him the best. John tried to imagine the old man’s life. He figured that his name was Mark. He was 61 years old and lived near Westminster Abbey where he went to church every Sunday. He probably worked as an English teacher and was a writer on the side. However, the only thing he truly cared about was his beautiful wife Martha. John imagined Mark and Martha getting married on the coast of Wales 30 years before. They had met on a cruise to the Bahamas and instantly fell in love. They never had children because Martha could not conceive. They did not mind; they wanted to spend the rest of their lives together with no distractions. And they did just that.

Suddenly, John woke up from his daydream. “What am I doing?” John thought to himself. “I don’t know this man. I don’t know his story. Why should I care anyway? It’s not like I am going to see him again.” 

John flipped open his newspaper and stared down at the third page. Tears suddenly filled his eyes as he read the news headline. “Man jumps from bridge: authorities find body.” Underneath was a picture of the old man.