I ran in to Karl in the elevator a few days ago on my way to work. Karl's my neighbor, see, across the hall. For weeks now he's had this rather large back brace on, and he's been walking with a cane. He walks with a bit of a limp, and it looks like there's still some residual pain creeping into his face from ... something. cep and I think he had an auto accident or something, but we're too embarrassed to ask (or pry, as the case may be). He was getting into the elevator with his high-school-aged son when I asked him how he was. His reply was simple:
He's going to camp, I'm going to work, and my wife's going to the farmer's market, so life can't be that bad.
"Life can't be that bad."
Amazing. I had to call cep immediately. She needed to hear this message. She's in Vermont right now, mourning, but I think it helped. I think a message like that, an outlook so humble and hopeful, should always be able to help.
