Chagal4's Blog

We all know we’re going to die…It’s that pale image that stares at us in the mirror every morning. Banished by soap and water, shaving cream and tooth paste…it waits until tomorrow. We know but we don’t really KNOW…until Death rings twice and hangs up…leaving you glad you didn’t answer the phone. But, all of a sudden you KNOW. What you do with the knowledge is up to you. Some people find god…good for them. Some find that lifestyle change they were always promising…good for them too. Some treat friends, family and even enemies better…great for all of us! These are the wake-up-and-fly-right facts of life for those of us who have crossed that sixty five year line.

There’s a pothole in my life just now…It’s Bob sized…and I hear echoes of one of those phone calls. Not to me…but perhaps to him. I’m afraid he answered that phone…because I haven’t seen him for two or three weeks now. So I’m wondering. Bob means a lot to me. He’s been a steady and encouraging presence two doors down the street for the past fifteen years. I’ve grown old in those years and though I resist it with all my energy, I know that it’s so. Bob, though, is older than I am and he has always been there on his front porch or the head of his driveway on all but the most miserably coldest winter days. He never says much…and there’s a lot of enigma about Bob. He’s one of those people who are neither large nor small. He’s just…there. Whatever you think you know about the Bobs of this world you gather by inference and that’s just fine with me. He has always been a little “hello” man…short comments on the weather or the state of things. He keeps an eye on the street and greets anyone who turns his way. Over the years we’ve become touchstones…at least he has for me. When I sit on my balcony I automatically look to my left to see if he’s there. He often is and we’ll exchange a nod or a wave. For me that small gesture contains the secret code. The signal says “I’m O.K.” and “How about you?” and “Yep me too”. Then I’ll sit and read for an hour or so and he’ll smoke his hideous cigars and watch the snow melt or the traffic passing or the birds twittering in the trees across the street. It’s not that I’ve come to rely on those nods and waves…I’ve taken them for granted…foolishly. They’re important to me. When the cancer struck and I was filled with wondering…I’d often sit on my porch and look over at Bob…and he’d wave and my day would be a little less heavy.

What I actually know about Bob wouldn’t fill a shot glass. I’ve never asked. Don’t even know his last name. You’d think that it would matter. It doesn’t. What matters right now is that I haven’t seen him for a few weeks and that’s very much out of the ordinary. It matters that I haven’y seen Mrs. Bob lately either…but when I did just the other day, she was being driven home by a stranger and she was sort of more dressed up than usual. That was when I heard the echo of that phone ringing…and my mind leaped unbidden to the thought that she was coming home from the hospital. I hope that’s all.

We’re leaving the country soon for a couple of weeks. Until then I’ll be on my balcony every day looking left… and if I see the Mrs. Bob…I’ll be crossing my fingers and asking…Where’s Bob?

This entry was posted on April 24, 2014 at 9:09 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.