We’re all just walking each other home

Almost four years ago I received a call from the Charlotte Observer, asking me to participate in a new initiative with a small group of other community members. It would be a one-year commitment as a “Contributing Columnist,” writing a monthly column about whatever was on my mind. Four years and 44 columns later, it’s time to be thankful, take a detour and move on to different challenges.

I’ll admit sometimes I’ve been hard on my hometown, state and nation. That’s because my favorite trait is redemption. I believe there’s a better me, a better us around every corner. Getting better requires we polish our collective mirrors and get real about our challenges. Sometimes it looks like we get it. Sometimes it looks like we just got off Willie Nelson’s tour bus.

My profession has afforded me lots of material for good stories, many which I’ll never tell to protect the guilty. So perhaps it’s fitting to wrap things up with an encounter that’s a reminder that we’re all on this journey together.

Many years ago, I met a somewhat frail, elderly guest at our Inn. I greeted him at breakfast and asked, as I always do, what brought him to visit us. He had a medical appointment nearby and wanted to treat himself to a relaxing night beforehand. Since we’re located close to the hospitals, this isn’t an unusual occurrence. As if on auto-pilot, I said I hoped it was nothing serious and wished him good luck. After a long pause, he told me he was checking into hospice. Unsure what to say, I paused and expressed my sympathy. His only words were, “Well, it’s just that time.”

After breakfast, he asked if he could sit and linger a bit. I encouraged him to stay as long as he liked. I became preoccupied by our conversation and so I checked in on him. He proceeded to ask about the history of the building and its furnishings. That conversation led to me spending the rest of the afternoon sipping whiskey, trading stories about Charlotte’s history, our lives and my family. It turns out he had very little family and was virtually alone.

As the day grew longer, he looked at his watch and said he needed to go soon. I asked if I could call him a car. Since it was a beautiful day and he was only a couple blocks from his destination, he preferred to walk. I fibbed and said I was about to go on a walk myself and offered to tag along. He seemed relieved and agreed. When I offered to help with his bags, he showed me a little plastic bag he was holding and said, “Where I’m going you really don’t need to bring very much.”

We had a wonderful, slow walk toward the hospital complex, chatting about this and that. He chuckled at one point and said, “I feel like you’re walking me home.” When we arrived at his location, he gently shook my hand and thanked me for spending so much time with him. He whispered, “You never know who you’re going to meet along the way.” All I could say was, “No, you never do.”

It was an unexpected privilege to spend that time with him, just as it has been with you. If it’s true we’re all just walking each other home, thanks for letting me tag along.

Contributing columnist Billy Maddalon can be reached at billy@billymaddalon.com