I just cannot believe it

I Just Cannot Believe It

           I just cannot believe it. It is a relatively warm and sunny day for February, so I decided to take an extended walk around the small town in which I have lived all my life. It had been a long time since I had done that, but I had been diagnosed with diabetes type 2. My doctor, as well as Doctor Google both have recommended that I engage in daily exercise. So, after some thought and initially a lot of excuse making and delaying, I decided to take such a walk every day. Today will be the first such day. I just cannot believe it.

           I just cannot believe it. What I thought would be a drudgery and completely boring, began early on to actually be enjoyable, genuine fun for me. I saw my old high school, which I had last seen at its 50^th year ceremony, five years ago, 40 years since I graduated there. As I approached the school, I saw students there standing across the road from the school smoking during their lunch break, just like I had done when I and my smoking buddies were there, throwing defiant challenges to the world. I could not resist telling one guy who looked both reasonably friendly and a bit of a rebel, that I was ‘glad to see some of the old school traditions are still continuing.’ He looked kind of stunned at first, but then smiled, laughed and we did a fisted high five right hand to right hand, something I had never done before, although I have seen people do it on television. I just cannot believe it.

           I just cannot believe it. I just saw the old beer store where I used to buy beer for myself and my friends because I looked older than they did. It probably had something to do with my thick black beard as a teenager. I never once was asked to show I.D. As I got closer to the beer store I experienced the old feelings of fear that I would be caught and maybe arrested if I went into the store and bought some beer, not just for underage me, but for my younger looking friends who were lurking suspiciously in the parking lot.. Who knew those feelings would last so long in my aging mind. I just cannot believe it.

           I just cannot believe it. For no clear reason that I could discern at first I took a sharp right hand turn and walked towards the old church where I went to Sunday school before I became cool, passing it by without more than a glance and heading toward the cemetery where my wife is buried. I have not been there since we (a few family members) buried her two years ago. I did not have the nerve to go to a place that would trigger great sadness in me. I am surprised, however. As I approach Betty’s grave and see her name and birth and death numbers carved in stone, I feel that I actually am in her presence. There is a sense that she is not completely lost to me. Part of her spirit remains here, and I can feel her company. I will have to come here again.  I just cannot believe it.

           I just cannot believe it. As I walk into the park just a few hundred yards past the cemetery I see someone who at first glance looked like a boy of 10 to 12, not very tall, or built up like a man, looking rather elfin. Seeing me, he steps in my direction, kind of skipping. Getting a closer look at him, particularly his face, I see that that he has in his eyes the look of someone very, very old. I would even say that he looked ancient, although I don’t really know why I think that is so. His voice, when he speaks to me, supports that perception. It is an old man’s voice, not too different from my own, just a little slower with spaces between words.  What he says to me is surprising. “I see that you have just passed a place of great sadness for you. But there is also a joy deep inside you that is a great pleasure to read in your mind, even though it is mixed with sadness.” I just cannot believe it.

           I just cannot believe it. He keeps talking, telling me in story fashion what I have seen in my walk, and of the feelings and memories that those sights have conjured up. Then he ramps up the amazing with what he says next. “You are now wondering who or what I am. I am not from here.” With those words he sweeps both arms in wide circles. “Let’s just say that I am from far away – in space and time. As I am stuck here - please do not ask me why- I would like to enjoy the pleasures of this planet. I have read inside your head two such pleasures – what you would call smoking cigarettes and drinking beer, purchasing both being something of an adventure I can buy neither, but I know that you can. I also read inside you friendship from when you were not quite a fully-fledged man, but which is lacking now. I would like that too. Do you think it possible that you and I can share this thing called friendship? Like with the cigarettes and beer, it is something beyond my long lived experience. What do you say?” I just cannot believe it.

           I just cannot believe it. Instead of being shocked and a little scared as most sane people would, I feel like this is the first experience that I can look forward to in a long, very long time. As I go to give him a positive response, he smiles at me and gives me a big hug. I should know by now that I don’t need to speak for him to understand what I am thinking. I just cannot believe it.

           I just cannot believe it. I tell him how this is going to be done. I will buy him cigarettes and matches, but he cannot be seen smoking them in public. There is an alleyway by what we used to call the ‘smoke shop’, although it probably has had to diversify since my time of underage smoking. He can smoke there, and we can talk. And as for the beer, I will walk into the store, and buy a case of beer. While I am doing that, he will hide out of sight, but close enough for me to worry just a little, then we can go to my place, and have a couple of beers. I just cannot believe it.