A little longer walk...

“We can’t help everyone, but

everyone can help someone.”

- Ronald Reagan

Saturday morning at 7:30AM…

“Let’s just take it easy,” Reggie said in a gently calming voice I have come to appreciate in my friend. “We’ll take the short route, and when we get to the park, we can decide whether to do the loop or just turn around and come back.”

With those words, we headed out for a morning walk.

This man is a member of my writer’s workshop and we have been friends since we joined the group a couple of years ago. It turns out we came to Oro Valley around the same time and found ourselves with these writers within a month or so of each other.

I got here, because my mother-in-law passed away, leaving her home. Molly and I came and took up residence. Reg got here because of a stroke. His sister lived in Oro Valley so he moved to be near her. Both of us came from California – we from San Diego and him from the Bay area.

We have a lot in common…curious about life and the people around us. We try to ‘look forward’ and both like to write. The last item, because of the need, I suppose, to record the things we think about...maybe to help us remember when our other capacities have slipped away with the mists of time.

The two of us are not the same age – he has me by a couple of years – but looks younger than me. I tell him he picked his parents well.

Our conversations are easy and usually thoughtful. We laugh about the things we thought were important when we were young and full of energy.

This particular morning began, because I have been sick for the past 10 days or so and have pretty much been going through the ups and downs of I feel great, followed an activity and then thinking, I feel horrible and need to lie down again. Days with alternating short bursts of energy and sleep do weird things to your brain and body.

Brain: Man, if this is the way it is going to end, let’s just get it over with!

Body: Going to a meeting, or short event is all I can tolerate. Let’s just get horizontal!

The thing about Reggie is his thoughtfulness. When I called to see if he wanted to get together I said, “I’ll come by in the morning. If I feel okay we’ll walk, if not, let’s just have a cup of coffee and solve some world problems.”

World problems, we’re good at that. Our conversations generally go something like this.

“Yeah, when we were young Ted, we thought we knew everything, but we didn’t know nothin’,” he might say with a smile. “Now we are old, and the only difference is we know we don’t know nothin’!”

“I was pretty smart when I was younger,” I might say.

“Maybe you was,” he might say with twinkling eyes, “but I doubt it!”

Conversations like this are generally followed by the two of us chuckling… sometimes we just laugh out loud at the idea that anybody, anywhere, could actually figure anything out at anytime.

The thing is that we recognize our frailty and are sensitive to one another in ways that an ebony and ivory twosome might never have achieved at a different time in our lives…a time when events and culture and so many other unimportant forces might have worked to cause us to miss the friendship with which we have now been blessed. It’s not the quantity of time we spend…it is the quality.

Now we are older and when we are together, we focus on the things that have meaning to one another…appreciation for our journeys…gratitude that we are alive and have the time to explore one another’s minds…tolerance that helps us see just how common our humanity, if not specific life events, make us so much more alike than not.

Saturday morning when I showed up, my friend…my gentle friend was there to be supportive for whatever I thought I might be able to do.

Saturday morning at 7:30 we headed out the door together and as usual began a lively conversation, sharing as much positive energy as a couple of older fellas can do.

When we got to the park, I was still feeling pretty good…

We did the loop….

- ted