The Power of Noticing

August 4, 2016Lisa Tieglman-Koepp https://staringatmybellybuttonwordpress.wordpress.com

Good beautiful Thursday morning to you! There’s a calm breeze in the air, a soft blanket of warmth from the sun that has touched my skin, and this wonderful gift of a summer morning before my work day begins this afternoon. Summer is flying by, evidenced by the numerous flyers for ‘back to school’ supplies that accompany the mail every day. As me and my husband were returning home after dropping off our youngest daughter for her last day of technical camp, Steve summoned me to notice the elderly man on the corner we had just passed. He asked me if I recognized him. As I turned to look back, all I saw was his silhouette against the backdrop of the rising sun, a fragile, aged man with a slightly bent stature. I vaguely noticed a familiarity in what I saw, but could not identify him in that moment. And then my husband gently said, he’s the ‘Lone Ranger’ of ‘The Gentlemen.’

We’ve been living in our current home since our oldest daughter was in Kindergarten. She is now nineteen years old. Every morning, a group of elderly men have walked through our neighborhood. They walked in every kind of weather, be it rain or shine, heat or frigid cold, gusty breezes or calm winds, sleet or snow. Rarely did they miss a morning walk! It started with one of them leaving their home, collecting friends along the way until the group was complete, just around the time they’d reached the old hospital in town. Their destination…a room in the basement of a corner office building where they would share coffee and stories. Afterwards, they would return each other to their respective homes, one-by-one, in the same manner they began, only in reverse fashion. In fact, they were so timely, we always knew how late we were by where these guys were on their route. We respectfully named them, ‘The Gentlemen’, who animatedly greeted us every morning on our way to school with enthusiastic warmth and genuine love. The girls would light up when they saw these grandfatherly men. I’d like to believe those men lit up too when the girls would reciprocate the same intensity of ‘good morning’ greetings.

Last week we attended the funeral of one of these ‘Gentlemen’, the man who would start the route, often carrying the carafe of coffee that would later be shared among friends. I’ve known him since high school, as he was the father of one of my sweet friends. He was also the guy who decorated and road his Vespa in our small town parades, a man who seemed larger than life. I also practice psychotherapy out of his first childhood home, so there’s a kindred connect I feel with him every time I head to my office. He’d often pop in to check on the place and ask that I give the building owner a list of repairs he felt needed to be done. Needless to say, I’ve had a great admiration for this man who was so loved by our community. I will miss seeing him!

Over the years, the group of gentlemen reduced in numbers. Yet those that remained still kept their pace, and our morning ritual of salutations continued. However, it seemed the group disbanded in such a slow and gradual manner that until recently, we failed to notice they weren’t walking anymore. And then it hit me! The man on the corner my husband had just pointed out was the last of ‘The Gentlemen’…and apparently still walks. I was filled with thoughts and emotions, asking myself questions like “Why does he still walk?”, “Where is his destination now?”, and most importantly, “When did I stop noticing?” I suddenly realized that we’d been participating in a sacred ritual with these guys since the beginning of our time in this neighborhood. The site of this man this morning, his silhouette against the rising sun, has been imprinted on my heart as one of the best curtain calls for a story with a bunch of old guys in an experience that really mattered! Even though there’s only one of them remaining, he keeps walking! Good for you, Mr. Gentleman! Bravo!!!

‘The Gentlemen’ were such a gift to us, becoming part of the fabric of our every day lives each morning. They were how we started our day! I wish I could say ‘thank you’ to all of them, but that opportunity is gone now. But for the one remaining, I promise you this…I will watch for you, I will notice you, and if the chance affords me, I will thank you! Whether you are walking for your health, tradition, in honor of your friends, and/or for reasons I may never be privy to know, you are a huge testament to the power of small, sacred acts of love, friendship and loyalty, and the power of ritual. I will be forever grateful for you and your friends and those lovely morning treks! Walk on, sweet man! Walk on…