We’re all connected by our routines

Every day for years I would see him walk by.  A large fellow, stooped with age, bronze skin and blond hair.  It was obvious from his appearance that he had been an athlete, whose time had passed.  But, every day he would walk by wearing shorts and a T Shirt.  No matter what the weather, he would do his morning walk.  When it was cold, he might wear a light jacket.

I never stopped him, never talked to him, but he became part of my life.  One day he disappeared.  For two weeks we didn’t see him.  Then – he was back.   I wondered if maybe he had been sick.  Maybe he had taken a vacation.  I didn’t know, but it was comforting to know that he was back. His walk was part of my life.

There’s a woman with a German accent who walked her dog every day.  She’s friendly, likes to stop and talk with people working in their yards.  I’ve talked with her about the dog and quietly admired how she used it as a tool to talk with people.  One day she had a different dog.  Her other one had died.  I expressed my sadness about the loss of her dog and we carried on a conversation.  Did I say she liked to talk?

It got to the point that when I saw her coming down the street, I would go into the house to avoid the conversation.  I felt bad, but I had things to do – – important things.

Every morning I take my walk, within a minute or two of 7 am.  I walk the same route I’ve been walking for more than 40 years.

I know every house, every car, every tree and every person who’s doing the same thing I’m doing.

I know which cars belong to which house.  I know when a strange car is in a driveway.  I know which yard has been recently mowed and which house has received a coat of paint.  I see the same elderly Asian lady who is also taking a walk.  We make a small hand gesture and often say “Good day for a walk”, even if it isn’t.

Every day, the same two small dogs run to the living room window and bark as I walk by.  I wonder if they hear me coming or have some second sense.  I think its because I go by at the same time every day and I’m part of their morning routine.

Now I suspect there’s a couple in one of the houses having their morning coffee and one says to the other “There’s that same old man going by.  Wonder where he lives?”  I’ve  probably become part of their routine.