People Watching

I love to watch people. I find humans extremely intriguing. Here are two examples of people that I observe on an almost daily basis. I don't go out of my way to observe, they have sort of presented themselves in my path. Don't you ever wonder if someone notices you and, if so, what conclusion they have made about your actions/life? I fear that someone would eventually stop watching me as it must be incredibly boring!

Just about every day after work, Matt and I go over to the new house we are building.We pass this one house on the street we will live on, but way farther up. This lady lives there and I don't know if she lives alone or what, but she is ALWAYS outside on the phone. And, it always looks like she is really giving it to someone. Can someone really argue that much, as I assume? If she is having pleasant happy conversation, she's totaling fooling me. Good grief, her life must be like a soap opera. Maybe she's talking to her ex-husband or something and they really still hate each other. She's always in the yard walking around, pacing really. She's either on her cell or her cordless phone. Cordless phone sounds so outdated. It's as if people actually use other phones these days. I mean, we have them, but we don't use them a whole lot. But, I digress. Anyway, she's become something of an interest to me and every time I pass her house now, I look to see if she is out there in the yard, pacing back and forth and giving someone down the country. She usually is and it doesn't look pretty. I feel sorry for the person(s) on the other end, whoever they are. You would think they would stop calling or block her number eventually. I find it hard to believe that she is talking to someone different every time. I can only imagine what she says to customer service people. The first time I saw her I thought she might have been locked out of her house and was in a tizzy and complaining to the person on the other end of the phone. Now, I know quite differently. She apparently finds a hobby of harrassing people. Poor, poor souls.

I go pretty much the same route to work every day, five days a week. I pass the cemetery where all of my grandparents are buried. It is natural, I think, to look each time I go by. I've always found it to be a very soothing cemetery with beautiful statues. I was sort of mesmerized by them when I was a kid. I've been noticing in the last couple of months that I have been taking this way that just about every morning, I'd say at least four times in the five that I go that way, there is a man who sits at one of the graves. He drives a white truck and he is an older man. He always has a plastic chair in the back of his truck. I've passed by several times while he is just pulling up and getting out. He pulls up, gets his chair out, and sits at one of the graves. I noticed that all the flowers on the graves around him have pink and purple flowers so I am just assuming that he is visiting his wife. He usually smokes while he is out there but I haven't seen him talking. I always think he is, though. It is one of the sweetest and saddest things I've ever seen, simultaneously. I always think that he must have lost his wife and he goes to talk to her every day because he really misses her and there is a hole in his life where she was at one time.

He has become something of a comfort to me. It's comforting that I see him every single day just about. He's very consistent, although I haven't seen him this week. It may be too hot or maybe he has something else to do. I always wonder when I don't see him and I fear he may be sick. I don't know him at all, but I sort of care about him. He makes me think about the kind of love that he must have had for his wife. I don't know anyone that goes to see their loved ones every day at the cemetary. I don't know anyone that consistent. It makes me wonder, if I died, would anyone care to come and hang out at my grave every day after my passing?

He must really miss her and it makes me sad that she died and they can't spend time together anymore. I always picture him not knowing how to cook or do laundry or anything since she died. I suppose I picture this because he is old himself and I believe he may come from the same generation as my grandparents. The one where gender roles were cut and dry and men didn't cook, unless it was barbecue, and women didn't work outside the home. I find this to be a common situation when the wife dies before the husband. After 50+ years together, the man doesn't know how to cook or balance a checkbook or do laundry. He has depended on his wife for pretty much all of his adult life. I don't know this to be the man's situation, but I picture it that way. He usually wears a t-shirt and shorts if that makes any difference. I'm digressing, again.

I find it so bittersweet every time I see him there. I enjoy seeing him every day but I feel bad that he might be sad each time he is there. I think about the love between them and it makes me wonder if that kind of love actually exists anymore. Do people care enough anymore to visit someone they loved every day? I visit the graves of my grandparents usually once a year either at Easter or Mother's Day when I take a spring bouquet of flowers for the graves. I never talk to them. Sometimes I wish I could. He makes me want to go more often, as I wonder if it could be therapeutic to talk them, even though I know they can't talk back and are probably not listening. There have been many times in my life that I wish I could talk to my Maw-Maw because I know she would give me great advice.

I hope that it is comforting to him to talk to her. I also hope that each time a little of his sadness fades. I admire and appreciate his consistency and devotion to her and I only hope that one day someone will miss me enough to visit me every day.