The Shadow Of Isolation

The robins were gone this morning when I arrived at work. Last night’s banshee wind must have driven them to a shelter, chilling them with reminders that the land is still in winter’s grip. In a recent conversation, someone mentioned to me that he never sees people wearing scarves anymore. When I replied that I wear them all the time, especially on walks, he frowned and said, “But they’re not in style.” I went away thinking about what an odd age this is. People do things not because they are sensible or helpful or health-preserving, but because they are in style.

This is the sort of remark that reminds me afresh that I do not feel at home in this world, nor have I ever. I comfort myself by asking “Just who would feel at home in this age?” Those I observe who seem to feel at home here are merely distracted. The distinction between contentment and distraction is an important one in my economy.

Yesterday, I saw an elderly man fall on the sidewalk outside the building next to the one where I work. Headed to my lunch break, I hurried over to help him and the other elderly man accompanying him. The man on the sidewalk was in his eighties, frail and pale and shaken, his cane in the grass near his legs.

I asked the fallen gent if he was okay, then asked him some questions to assess his mental status. He checked out all right, so I explained how I was going to assist him. I had to prompt the other man, who must have been in his late sixties, to help me. My words snapped him out of a silent stare, but he assisted me in helping the downed man regain his feet. Once we had him upright, I asked him again if he was okay, and he nodded. Then the other man took his arm and guided him towards the door where they’d been headed before the fall. They entered the building and I stood for a few minutes, watching them under the scuttling clouds. Then I turned back to go to lunch. Neither of the men ever acknowledged my help nor thanked me for it.

Most of us help others not to be thanked or rewarded, but to be virtuous. But the absence of gratitude is a jarring thing.

I do not feel at home in this world.

~ S.K. Orr