Crazy Time

“I came to see if Crazy was here.”

The man’s voice was thin and crackly and drew my attention. I was leaning on the counter of our local post office waiting for a manila envelope to be weighed, priced, and stamped. Needless to say, this was a welcome and intriguing interruption. Not that a visit to the post office lacks excitement per se, but, well, after looking at the faded stamp collection on the wall I had mentally started counting ceiling tiles. Fourteen…fifteen…ewww, what kind of stain is that?…

The man stood at the door, appeared to be in his eighties, slender, and sporting the day’s facial hair growth. There was something about the twinkle in his eyes that strongly reminded me of my dad. A little pang hit my heart and bounced around for a moment.

The postal worker barely glanced up as she continued to process my letter. “She’s not here on Thursdays.”

He looked surprised, then bewildered. “Today’s Thursday?”

The postal worker nodded. “Yes. Hey, it’s nice to see you out and about, Harry.”

“Today is really Thursday? I can’t… seem to keep track anymore. Well, okay, thanks for the update.”

I watched him as he turned to go. He appeared a bit lost now that his mission to see Crazy was aborted; yet threw his shoulders back and straightened his posture. Perhaps it was one vestige of dignity he could continue to muster in a world where time felt distorted and confusing.

Softly shuffling down the hall, he turned the corner and disappeared into the winter’s ugly cold. Was this brief interaction the highlight of his day? Was there someone at home waiting to hear his voice? A loved one? A pet? Why hadn’t he been out and about for a while as the postal worker indicated?

“That will be $1.13. Is there anything else I can do for you?

“No, I’m good.” I pulled out my money and thanked her for her time.

“Stay warm,” she said, the traditional Minnesota winter’s version of “See ya.”

Time. What would it be like to have too much of it? As I drove away I felt thankful for what I race against, take for granted, and pine for all at once. Time. I thought about the old man and his vivid reminder that perspective changes and loneliness happens, invited or not.

Thank you, Harry. You were the best part of my day.