Point of View

Eugene

A crescent moon hangs above Phoenix; its crisp glow punches a hole in the dark blanket of the night sky. A soft breeze drifts across the patio of my third place which quickens my senses and takes with it the stresses of the week. I mentally tap out a beat in my head while trying to drawn out the conflicting sounds of the live band playing across the parking lot and the music coming from the little speakers of Starbucks. The arrival of our cooler temperatures has created a population explosion at my third place making it a challenge to secure “my” favorite table from night-to-night, while giving me plenty of people watching opportunities.
I met Eugene during one of my observation “sessions” about four years ago. I had noticed him coming in during my lunch time breaks and decided to strike up a conversation with him. What makes Eugene unique and what ultimately sparked my interest was that I had always seen him walking around town where he would eventually end up at Starbucks. This in itself holds no special qualities except Eugene is 88 years old. Eugene is a frail and gentle man and speaks with a soft wisdom and friendly voice. He walks with the aid of a cane and stands just about 5’5” and can’t weigh 100 pounds, if that. He is normally seen wearing a white button-up shirt and tan trousers topped off with a hat; the kind the men wore in the forties. Over the years I have come to know him very well and hold great regard for this gentle soul. He is always willing to offer assistance to those around him, but will never except a hand out. He served in the Army during WW II and was part of the D-Day invasion that landed on the Normandy beach, but he doesn’t share much of those experiences with me, just to say he did what he had to do, what “we all had to do.” Eugene’s never married, has no children and has never owned a car. He is all that remains of his siblings having outlived his older sister and younger brother. I feel a certain amount of sorrow for him when he talks about his lonely life, but I also admire his spirit and positive attitude. He lives on his own in a small one bedroom apartment, not far from Starbucks, and not in the best of conditions. From time-to-time I will drop in on him with fresh laundry and groceries and sit for a visit. He seems to enjoy the company, and I enjoy bridging the generation gap of over forty years.