There's This Man... - Bailee McClellan

Dear Universe,

There is an older man who lives near us that goes for a walk every morning, and for well over a year our paths have crossed, almost daily, while I’m taking the girls to daycare or on a morning walk of my own.

Sometimes we pass each other on the winding streets around our old neighborhood. Sometimes on the pedestrian path over by the preschool. Sometimes on the trails down by the beach. As long as we are within the walkable radius of our shared neighborhood, we are bound to run into each other.

The man never makes eye contact as we pass. In fact he seems like he explicitly tries NOT to make eye contact with me. His expression is always stern, grumpy even.

I smile at him every time despite this. I hold out hope that someday he might just smile back. It’s become a kind of game for me. Because, really, Universe, there’s no way this man doesn’t recognize me or think “Oh there she is today” the same way I do him. That’s gotta be worth a smile eventually.

I feel somehow connected to this man in the grand scheme of things. I don’t know him or his story and he doesn’t know mine, yet somehow we are tied together by our shared proximity and enjoyment of long morning walks with headphones.

And, honestly, that’s a lot more than I feel like I share with most people lately.

I like to think, Universe, that maybe this man is a reminder to me that no matter how much it may feel like the complete opposite, we’re never really alone.

We all carry our own weight and we all have different voices in our ears and we all move at different paces, but there will always be things we share. There are humans out there that quite literally walk the same path we do.

For the past few weeks the man has been walking with a cane. His pace has slowed. I’m not sure how much longer we will continue to run into each other.

I hope I continue to have occasion to pass by him on my route, not just because I’m determined to get that smile or because I need to know his story, but because in a very small way, he’s become a character in mine.

Maybe we find connection where we notice it, Universe. And maybe it doesn’t always have to be significant or intimate or deep to make an impact. Maybe sometimes a grumpy old man moseying by is enough to feed the soul a bit.

I think I’ll go for a walk and test that theory. Back soon.

XO – Bailee