a street called memory lane

There's this street I drive on sometimes. I started frequenting this route when I moved back home from college - a lost, jobless soul, trying to figure out what to do with my life. Driving through its loveliness was a distraction from the questions I had about life swirling in my head at the time. Still today I drive it because even though it's sometimes out of my way, it's full of pretty scenery and I associate a lot of good memories with it. When I'm heading north on this street, there is a cemetery to my right with lush, green grass, flowers and beautiful mature trees as far as you can see. To my left are nice homes with landscaped lawns. My grandpa and grandma have burial plots at that particular cemetery and they like to tell us that when they die their ghosts will be sitting on the tombstone waving at us as we drive by. Even though, thankfully, they are still alive and kicking, I always smile to myself, thinking about them when I drive by... and I always will.

A few years ago I was on this road and noticed an older man, feeble, thin and lanky, with white hair and a white car, sitting on a lawn chair near the road next to one of the mature trees. At his feet was a fresh and full arrangement of flowers. Ever day after that when I drove past this cemetery I would see this man. Rain or shine. Hot or cold. He was always appropriately prepared. Eventually through the years there would be times I'd drive by and wouldn't see him. But it wasn't very long and I'd see that white car backed up to a spot near the road, the man on the lawn chair with fresh flowers at his feet. I have often thought about how cool it would be to stop my car, park near his, get out and ask him about her. A couple of weeks ago I noticed that I hadn't seen the man in a very long time. I had this sinking feeling because seeing him always brought me a certain peace and joy imagining the life story and love that sat and looked on at the spot of his deceased. Somehow seeing him made me reflect on my own life, thinking about getting old, wanting to enter my twilight years with a good life story where I made a difference in this world, impacting the next. I wondered what it would have been like to talk to this man and tell him how seeing him sit at the grave site impacted me over the years.

On today, this 80 degree, cloudless, beautiful spring day, with trees blooming in abundance all around, I was driving down this same road... now with my two children in the backseat chattering and laughing. There he sat. His car was backed up in the usual spot, flowers at his feet, looking onto his beloved. I was surprised at my own excitement in seeing him. But there he sat. My son startled me out of my thoughts. "Mommy, why are you smiling?" I paused while trying to come up with the words to answer him. "Oh... I just saw an old friend that I haven't seen in awhile, honey."

Oh how that road has been a comfort to me many times in my life. How that road has seen me through huge life changes, observing tears and laughter as I followed its twists and turns. And how finding that man alongside that road has inspired me to live a better life... maybe someday I'll be brave enough to let him know.