Let’s Shake On It

I was heading back to my car at a big supermarket this morning when from a distance, I saw a man coming toward me across the parking lot. He was clean and appropriately dressed for someone in the Pacific Northwest, meaning he was wearing jeans and a plaid flannel shirt. He didn’t look unhoused and as he got closer, he held out his hand. I saw it wasn’t for money. He merely wanted to shake hands. So I met his hand and he held mine gently for a long time. “I’ve lived here since I was 11.” he told me. ”58 years.” I didn’t imagine he meant he had lived in the Fred Meyer parking lot since then but in Shoreline. “I’m 69 now,” he added proudly. I told him I was a little older than that and he looked crestfallen so I added, “But I’ve only lived here 4 years so you get the prize,” and he brightened right up. He wished me a good day and continued on his way. Maybe it was his warm, lingering handshake, I don’t know. But I felt honored by our simple interaction.

Photo courtesy oyso at Pixabay.com