Dear Anonymous,
His face is swollen. Stitches. He leans on his cane.
Somedays remaining upright is not possible.
Sometimes that ground hits hard.
He struggles.
He is in our world. In this world in which we move about together and move about apart. Soft spoken. Courteous.
He always turns toward me as he leaves, new socks tucked into his front pocket, with a dignified smile and makes eye contact as he lowers his chin, looks up at me and says 'Now you have yourself a good day.'
And when he says it I can feel that possibility. I can feel like I'd like my day to be good because he wishes it so. Maybe I COULD have a good day.
You too, friend. You too.
Thank you Dear Anonymous.