The old man and still being alive
He locked the door behind him making sure it is firmly locked by pulling the door handle a few times. He made himself be very aware of the moment, of feeling the handle not moving, of seeing the door not opening, all to free himself of subsequent doubts.
It had happened to him countless times to leave home, thinking about one thing or the other, and then obsessively wondering if he had locked the door or not. So, to keep off that kind of doubt, he was doing a very conscious door locking ritual.
The door was locked, so he walked slowly to the sidewalk content the day was bright and breezy.
Rain wouldn’t have stopped him anyway, but it was nicer to take the stroll in good weather.
He was still not fully used to his new clothes feeling a bit like somebody else’s, but it had to be done.
All his life he had worn a suit with sparkling white shirts, all pressed sharply, that is who he was and how he was comfortable. He had found out though that suits and shirts were very difficult to keep clean and looking well.
He had never thought about that because he never had to worry about it. She had always taken care of them. Now that he was alone though, it had become a big concern.
It is funny how, when you get old, your interests become very focused on worldly needs and survival.
Yeah, anyway, so he tried to keep his clothes clean, but he failed miserably. In the wash the suit got all crumpled and misshapen. The shirts got this greyish looking tinge. As a consequence, he started looking unkempt and he felt miserable.
Not washing them was not an option, old people smell, he knew that. Even now, 70 years later, he could remember how his great grandfather smelled, like decay and pee. He would never smell like that as long as he is able to take care of himself.
So now, all dressed in unusual clothes, jeans, a cotton sweater and a hoodie, leaning on his trusty cane, he headed slowly towards the restaurant for the main meal of the day.
The restaurant, a small Italian place, close to a theatre that provided most of their customers, had introduced this lunch special, trying to get people in for lunch too not just in the evening. The food consisted mainly of a soup, pasta with some sauce and a glass of wine or some desert with coffee on the house.
People seemed to like it, and among them he enjoyed being out and having a good meal at a price he could afford. Without realizing it, in time, this had become the highlight of his day, and the short walk, the chat with the people there, the food, he came to feel, were a big part of his life. Having this, gave his solitary life that bit of balance it needed not to drift into sadness.
When he got there the doors were still closed. He looked at his watch, too early. Through the brightly colored windows he could see they were still setting up the tables. No bother, he leaned against an old post box and sat there waiting for the time to come. Isn’t the breeze nice?
Giusseppe yawned, while carrying a big tray with cutlery into the dinning room. It had been a very late night. Not all of it work, he thought to himself smiling inside, still remembering the future promises in the eyes of the most stunning redhead he had ever seen. And that voice, like an angel. Sometimes life can be too much!
A shadow outside caught the corner of his eye and he went to the window to look out. An oddly dressed old man was waiting in front of the restaurant. Oh wait, he knows who that is. The old man was leaning against an old post box, while playing in the dirt with his cane.
Old age is such a stab in the back! You work and work and then all of a sudden you are old and can barely afford a plate of food. Giusseppe feels for the old man and fueled by his own fears and by his general kindness, he goes and opens the door. He walks slowly to the old man and invites him in.
‘Oh no, I would not want to be a bother!’
‘Oh Sir, never, you are an esteemed customer, come in, sit and have a glass of wine on the house. We will be ready to serve shortly.’
He helped the man sit down at his usual table by the window, locked the door and then brought him a glass of house red.
Good for the heart and not only, he said while putting the glass down. The old man smiled clearly touched by this unexpected event.
Then, they each went back to their own thoughts.
Giusseppe determined to be brave and call the gorgeous red head  singer. You only live once!
The old man touched by the fact that he had been acknowledged and welcomed somewhere, even if it was just a restaurant, on a corner, next to a theatre, a short walk from his house. He was still alive and being alive felt alright.
