So last night was not a blue ribbon winner in the sleep category for me. I was off and on awake, but when I was awake it wasn't enough to do anything but lay there and look at the ceiling and think.
For some reason when I can't sleep I think about this little old man who I saw at Wendy's a few years ago. My family was eating and I was watching all the people coming and going. For some reason I've always been far too comfortable making strangers' business my own, especially in restaurants.
Anyways, this little old man standing by the door caught my eye. He was waiting for someone else who was in line. It was December or January, so it was really cold out and he was trying to zip his coat up. But he couldn't. His hands shook and his face was full of frustration and humiliation. He just couldn't get it zipped up, in spite of how badly he wanted to.
This was the first time I'd ever seen an adult who couldn't do something as simple as zipping up a coat on their own. Honestly, it devastated me. I don't know why exactly, other than it broke down some of the illusions I had formerly held about life and growing up and getting old.
I sat watching him for what felt like hours, hoping that his next attempt would be successful. I'll never forget the moment of sadness we shared when he finally gave up. I was almost in tears and he was just staring off into the distance in compliance.
Then a Wendy's worker became my hero. He had been watching him too and he stepped out from behind the counter and helped him. I wish I had caught his name because now whenever I think about the little old man I have to resort to praying, "GOD, please bless the Wendy's worker." I guess his name doesn't really matter, because GOD knows who he is, but it still bothers me.
Anyways, it's just one of those bittersweet memories that I can't seem to let go of.
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