Every morning, I pass by a retirement home and I always see an old man

Every morning on my way to drop the kids off at school, I pass by a big and beautiful retirement home. Right in front of the home is a bus station and every day without fail, I see an old man there, I will call him "old man."

The old man is always well dressed in office clothes, with a green and black jacket, sitting on his walker. For each time I saw him, I wondered "He must be going to work....but is he not too old and frail to go to work?"

We were behind time on my Eureka day. Rather than sitting, as we drove by, he was pushing his walker back into the retirement home. 

That same week we were behind time all through, so daily, we passed by just when the old man was leaving the bus stop, and driving his walker back "home."

I finally wrapped my head around the fact that old man dresses each morning, probably reminiscing his youth and the daily grind back in his hay days...he gets to the bus stop but never gets on a bus, he loves seeing school buses driving by, younger men and women going about their daily hustles, cars driving by with passengers engrossed with personal cares and worries.

He loves life and the beauty of youth and youthfulness, he won't stay behind closed doors without feeling the freshness of the fall morning breeze. He must see the leaves as they come tumbling down the trees in preparation for winter. 

Perhaps he feels no one he even notices him.

But daily, I do.