This morning I’m with my Father at the HealthPartners Neuroscience Center. My Father is having therapy for his throat. So. Speech
therapy department. His therapist is named Evan. I remember Evan from my days
at Regions Hospital. Evan walked by me at least 5 times a day. And in 2 years,
he never returned my hello. I don’t know why. Frankly, I didn’t care. He seemed
affected in manner and deportment. I’ve never said a word beyond, “Hello” to
him.Oh wait, I may have thrown a “good
morning” in the mix. We’ve only spatially interacted; he walked by me. I
haven’t seen Evan in 11 years. Oh I’d see his avatar on Facebook. We have many
mutual friends. But Evan plays no part in my life, so I don’t consider him. This morning he walked by me while I scheduled my father’s
next appointment. I glanced up from the calendar on my phone and caught his
eyes. Because I’m a human being and he’s a human being, I said hello. He gave
me the blank and walked by.
Now don’t skim by the fact. He’s a speech therapist.Let’s just take the leap of faith here and
assume he knows how to form the word, “hello.”
We live in a cold and lonesome world.
Now I’m neither self-regarding nor self-absorbed. I know
others exist and I acknowledge their existence. I can’t comprehend not
acknowledging a human being who breathes alongside me. For a moment, Evan and I
shared space and breaths. For a moment we both existed in the same whirled.
Look, anything medical (except maternity) is either painfilled, filled with
anxiety, smothered in fear, or a time vampire. Where’s the happy?
You know, I forget my experiences with people. I’m pretty
damn happy and so when I see a face I recognize, I acknowledge the communion.
Even if the last encounter wasn’t pleasant, I always initially forget that
circumstance. I just feel the joy of the reencounter.
I saw him; I recognized him; I said hello.
I will not live in a world where I won’t acknowledge any
human being who breathes alongside me.