Friday, June 18, 2010


Today, while on my lunch hour, I had written one of my usual flippant blogs and discussed how I had been working on my own for the last 10 years without any coworkers and that I had come to a lonely, and crazy of mind kind of place, where I had started to talk to bugs and walls and plants, and in all honesty, it made me giggle after I finished the entry as I did look like a complete lunatic (and of course, it would not be the first time). And I had felt that it was a good ending to a long week full of ups and downs.

But then out of nowhere an 80 something elderly gentleman had just wandered off the street and landed in my office, which let me tell you is no easy feat as he had to climb up two flights of stairs.  Bent over and tired and using a cane for support, he just parked himself down in a chair across from me and started to cry.  I wasn’t sure what to make of this and I wasn’t even sure why he had come into my office. But what I did know for sure was that he was in some form of crisis.  Sadly you see, he had informed me that he had lost his wife in November and that they had been married for 65 years and he was now at a loss.  In fact, I would venture to say that he was completely devastated.  He went on to tell me that his wife was his best friend and the absolute love of his life. He shared with me the beautiful story of how the first time he saw her, he reached for her hand and from that day forward, he had never let go of it until the day she died.  His soul mate was gone and now he was alone.  And I could see what he was thinking: he had that wish, you know the one, that wish that said that he had wished it was he who had passed first.

Out of his jacket, he had pulled the memorial pamphlet from his wife’s funeral that he had gotten laminated and carried in a little book in his jacket wallet.  I really was at my own loss for words.  I did not know what he wanted from me and I wasn't sure what to do for him. And then I saw it in his eyes, he was just lonely.  So incredibly lonely and he had come thru my office door looking for some compassion.  After I wiped away my own tears, the only thing I could think of doing was to just get up and hug him.  And I hugged him hard and then he cried and I cried and he told me that was all that he needed and he got up and hobbled out thru the door.

I stood there wondering how and why he ended up in my office and then I thought of my recently drafted blog and it hit me hard.  Yes, I have incredibly huge moments of loneliness working by myself.  After all, I am a bit social and not having someone to work and laugh with during the day, does become a bit daunting.  But at the end of the day, I get to come home to my better half and my adorable little pooch, my great neighbours, phone calls from my awesome mother, emails from my fabulous friends, and by 9:00 p.m., I am often looking for a quiet little space for myself which is ironic since several hours earlier I was complaining about being lonely.

Coincidence that this man had walked into this office? I don’t think so.  Fates slapping me in the back of the head and telling me I have no idea what loneliness is?  Perhaps.

But whatever the reason, I can tell you that this man took my hand and pleaded with me to always appreciate that life was precious and fleeting, and I am grateful that whatever force ushered him towards my door knew that he would be the perfect person to kick me in my ass.

Until Next Time.
Smooches Pooches.


  1. Wow. I have goosebumps and I think I even welled up a little bit. Wow. Nothing like a lesson like that to make you apprecaite life just as it is before you head into a weekend.

  2. oh that made me cry... crocodile tears... my father died last month at 90, my mom died 11 years before and there wasn't a day i saw my dad that he didn't tell me how much he missed my mother.

    i hope you found a way to keep in touch with that man, maybe a compassionate call now and then to let him know someone cares... its like that joan baez song, say hello in there...

  3. Its funny that you say the above, my grandmother is 95 years old and my grandfather passed away 9 years ago and she says that he still sits on the edge of the bed and talks to her every day... Everlasting love is so incredibly powerful...

    No worries Jain, I took his name and number and I will do my best to check up on him! Thanks to you and Rita above for the lovely comments and for the kind concern on the nice elderly gentleman!


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