Light snow mixed with sleet seemed perfect for a New Year’s Day walk. I enjoyed the quiet of the empty streets by the river when I noticed an old man coming towards me. He looked jaunty with his red tartan scarf and was far less wrapped up than I in my many layered outfit that I had struggled to put on. We smiled and greeted each other. “I am John,” he introduced himself. “What’s your name?” He had a bit of trouble with my German accent and my name. We fell into easy conversation. He said his daily walks kept him in shape and away from the doctors. We tried to figure out where each of us lived. As I described my yellow house at the bend of Riverside, he said “My eyesight is very poor. I’ll have to work out a map in my mind.” At some point I told him that I was eighty-one. “How old do you think I am?” he asked. I noticed his drawn in mouth, perhaps because of missing teeth, but also his lively eyes despite poor vision. “Perhaps your 70’s?” He laughed that joyful laugh of his. ”I will be 95 this April.” I was genuinely surprised, and we walked on, laughing together.
At the corner of Riverside and Angela John was about to turn toward Portage and home while I planned to continue on Riverside. But before we parted, he asked: “Can I hug you?” It had crossed my mind as well, but I had been too shy to say anything. We hugged, as snow came down gently on our hats and tiny sleet pebbles bounced off our coats. Two old people, two strangers, hugging at a street corner. Leaving he said: “This has made my day.” And I agreed. “Happy New Year.“ It was off to a wonderful start.