The Man Whose Wife Died

Today, I saw the man whose wife died.

There is a man who used to come into Planet Care once a week with his wife. They were both in their 60's and ridiculously happy together. They created the sort of unit that only serious Heart Partners create. They were giddy in love.

One day the man appeared by himself. He looked disoriented and distraught. He trembled slightly at the check-out and started muttering about unkind people. Some impatient driver had blown their horn at him in the parking lot and he couldn't take it. He said, "I wanted to say to them, 'I just lost my mate of 35 years. Could you show me some kindness?'" And then he dissolved into tears.

My immediate supervisor and Heart Buddy, Doug, was bagging this gentleman's groceries. Doug is a compassionate entity. He abandoned the groceries, walked around to the man and wrapped his arms around this tiny frail being. He generously allowed this stranger to sob great heaving sobs into his shoulder as he softly uttered words of comfort. The man's grief ebbed briefly then flowed again. Doug helped him out to his car, bracing him up the whole way.

After that, I saw the man in the store more irregularly. Whenever he came through my line, I tried to display compassion without pity, kindness without condescension. But the reality of the situation was: I was slightly afraid to do or say anything that might upset him. So I made my verbal exchange with him brief and to the point.

He was in today and came through my line. He seemed less fragile, still sad, still slightly not in this world. I felt comfortable enough to talk with him. For whatever reason, I told him that I am a mask maker. He mentioned that he had been exposed to mask work in the theatre. I told him that I came to do mask work by way of theatre. I told him about my daughter who moved to Brooklyn to pursue acting. I told him about the slightly obscure Tennessee Williams play that I recently saw her in. He wanted to know which one. Clothes for a Summer Hotel. He hadn't heard of it.

We talked about Shakespeare and the best way to get to 83rd Street - which is uptown not downtown as I thought. I learned that his wife had been a professional dancer and at a pivotal point in her career, had to choose between going to grad school or dancing with a reputable company. She chose to dance. At that, his voice trailed away. He apologized for taking so much of my time. I shook his hand and told him it had been a pleasure conversing with him.

I hope we can speak again. I hope to learn more of his life. I hope that he can find some degree of joy in speaking of the past. I hope he can find peace in his heart even though his Heart and Soul have been removed from the planet.