Hank Wilson

Let me introduce to you my friend Hank Wilson. He is staying at an old folks home in Fullerton, and he is 91 years old. I walked in as a visitor and asked to meet him. As I was driving home from work, I was feeling like i should go on a walk. I parked my car behind the Ralphs near an old folks home. I thought, "i guess i should meet someone new."

I signed in the visitors center, and made my way in. I waited for Hank Wilson as one of the nurses said, "he is currently eating dinner."
I waited a good twenty minutes, and I had the wonderful oppurtunity to meet his roommate.
His roommate was old, and had a head full of hair. He was hunched over in his wheel chair. His left arm was wrapped, and he struggled to move it.
"what's your name?"
He replied, "i don't know what you're saying."
I stood by him and asked him if he could write with his other hand, he nodded.
He looked at the floor and didn't really move much. I was amazed that he still had his head full of grey, bouncy hair at such an old age.
I whispered to him, knowing that he couldn't hear me, "hello, my name is anthony. I'm young and wishing to learn about life. Alot of people really wouldn't understand why i'm here, but i'm hoping to learn about life."
I was sitting on top of the bed on the left side of Hank's roommate. I stood up, walked over to the right side and said in a loud boomy voice, "DO YOU MIND IF WE TALK?"
"i don't know what you mean."
"DO YOU WANT TO HANG OUT?"
"take it easy." he murmed toward me, "take it easy..."
I went over to a chair and removed some clean bedsheets from the chair, and sat on it. "This is definitely no Tuesdays with Morrie..." I thought.
So i sat there and watched him.
The roommate, just sat there, hunched over, looking down at the floor, and sat. His right hand was resting on the bed in front of him, totally relaxed.
"this arm is numb." he said, "i can't feel nothing."
I continued to watch.
His breathing was deep, and he took long breaths, and let out deep sighs. He tried to lift his arm up onto the arm holder, but couldn't get the arm in the spot. I walked over to him and lifted his arm, and sat back down in my chair. I continued to watch him. I stared straight at him for a good twenty five minutes, and he never bothered to look back up at me. He seemed tired, slow, and exhausted. Before i entered the nursing home, I was under the assumption that i would be "warmly greeted" from a "lonely old person". This roommate proved my vision a stupid fantasy. This man, never cared, or felt "self-concsious" that a perfect stranger was sitting in a room staring at him and doing absolutely nothing; most youths today would either feel uncomfortable, or feel an incessant need to say something. I finally thought of an idea. I took out a piece of paper and scribbled on it, and handed it to the old man. He took it, and read it aloud, "what is the manually of...of...." he paused trying to read the paper, "what is the meaning of life?"
He looked up at me, "I really don't know." And he went back into his slumping posture, and i went back sitting into the chair.
"Totally not the answer i was looking for." I thought.
Up wheeled in Hank Wilson. He was completely bald, and his head had old skin with many moles on top. He had a pair of simple framed glasses. He seemed much more lively, smiled at me and said, "they said i had a visitor, and i didn't know what to expect."
He had a pleasant speaking tone, and wasn't 'froggy' sounding. I said, "Yes, i'm your surprise visitor for today. But don't tell anybody, i had to lie to the receptionist to get into this place."
He smiled.
The man had a warm presence to him, and i was feeling totally calm sitting with him. I felt at peace with him, and felt the pressures of society fade away from me because here was a man whose seen it all. My job, my marital status, my family history, my drug abuse, my life's decision all lost meaning when i saw this aged man wheel up at me and smile. I felt the closest i've ever been with divine happiness.
He asked, "so what is your name?"
"Anthony" I said loudly, confidently.
"Kennedy? What is your first name?" he asked.
"Anthony." I answered
"Anthony Kennedy, nice name." He smiled and folded his hands in his lap.
I started, "so I came here to be with people much wiser than me. I wanted to be near people with wisdom."
He nodded, and seemed to understand me, "ah, we'll you're in the right place. I'm 91 years old."
I almost fell out of my seat, "jesus christ, 91 years old, wow" I was astonished. Nowadays, you're lucky to break 37.
There was a long pause
"So did you go to school?" I asked
"yes, i graduated in five years, and went to become a teacher." He started, "i was a teacher for 3 years, before the war started."
I listened.
"I joined the navy from 1943-1947"
"that's right at the end of World war II" I added
"that's right. I was in the service for 4 years. I was a compass engineer. I worked on magnetizing the compasses on the ships."
I listened, and didn't think.
"I was on the water for long, long periods of time. I liked it you know."
"did you ever marry?" i asked
"Yes, i got married when i was 23 years old."
"wow, you're were a young tiger.."
"how old are you?"
"24"
"well son, you'd better get married" he joked
"yea, i have a fear of relationships." I reported, "my mother was divorced twice, so i'm really cautious."
"well marriage is better than being single" he answered.
"yea, I suppose you're right. how many wives did you have?"
"two. I was married for 62 years, to my first wife, and she died of an adominal cancer. The cancer just got her, and she got weaker, and weaker, and weaker. She died." He told me his tragic story, but not in a sad, romantic tone, but in a manner-of-factly approach. he continued, "my second wife i was married for only 3 months, she also had an adominal cancer, and she died. Now i'm alone."
"that's were i come in, I'm your surprise visitor!" I said cheery, and waved my hands in the air. The joking eased my own spirit. Immature, but necessary.
"well" he continued, "not totally alone, I've had my roommate here for 3 whole weeks!" he returned a joke. But i caught his meaning, he seemed strangely excited that his roommate was still his roommate after such a short amount of time, as if he seen lots of people come, and lots of people go...
I stayed quiet.
"So you go to school?" he asked
"yes, i'm going to school and working." I answered
"ah, so you're staying busy."
"yes sir."
"did you want some dinner? Are you hungry?' He asked, smiling
Hank Wilson's offer was generous but didn't exactly produce an appetite, "no thanks, i already ate."
"well," he started wheeling his chair, "it was sure nice meeting Anthony Kennedy"
"yes, it was nice meeting you too Hank. I'd like to visit you again."
"yes, you should come back," he pause, "if i'm still here of course." I knew what he meant, but he seemed undisturbed by his own realization that even he had to admit that time afterall is Time.
I stood up from my chair, walked outside, and left the home.
Funny, i've always hated old folks homes because i've thought that families would just "dump" their grandparents into them because "they didn't want to hassle taking care of them." I've always told myself, "oh i'd better not end up in one of those." but after meeting Hank Wilson, that kind of stuff really doesn't matter.

I will visit him next tuesday.