Old people make me smile.
I gravitate to them. They remind me of simpler times in my life, when my Grandparents were still alive.
I love it when an old man catches my eye in the grocery store and, with a wink, he pauses for a moment to tell me a joke. A joke expertly delivered, I might add.
When that happens … I know that this moment – this one moment – is his one opportunity to tell his joke to someone new.
I also know it’s quite possible the wife is sick and tired of hearing the same joke and, very likely, he made up a reason to go to the store. It’s a quest – a quest to find someone new … a reason to get up. To go out. To interact.
People just want to be heard, and I actually quite love it when they choose me.