I have a friend. His name is John. He is twice my age. I am forty-seven. We met at the Vallombrosa Post Office where we first exchanged laughs before we exchanged numbers. The next day, he called and we met at McDonalds where I bought his coffee. We begin seeing each other a few times a week. At McDonalds. His church. My church. The cemetery. A cafe. The Humane Society. John has more spark and cinder than most people I’ve ever met AND he has an open schedule and driver’s license. He also has a touch of loneliness which the television just can’t seem to cure but not for lack trying. John is quite active with a lively sense of humor. I enjoy his company very much, if anybody is asking… which nobody has.

With my limited days in town and his waning time on Earth, I’m happy to visit with John as often as possible. To help him finally install that plaque on his late-wife’s headstone, to adopt another cat since the feral one no longer stops by, to sign up for that class to help him learn how to use his I-phone, to hear his stories, to work through some hurts, to listen to life of long ago, to know how things used to be, to anticipate what’s coming next, to share loving kindness with each other. It’s a win. Win. Win. Him. Me. Community.

At McDonalds, our neighbor kindly interjects into our conversation how it touched his heart to listen to us visit with each other. He asks if John was my grandfather to which I warm-heartedly reply, “No, he’s my friend.” This man stated that he missed his own grandpa and longed to hear him tell stories of yesterday. He simply longed to spend time with him but it was just too late. My heart began to soar to hear this man’s acknowledgment of love in the air. A beautiful share, indeed. 

John invited me to lunch. I had work to do at the library and by the time I met up at the Passages Senior Luncheon held at the First Baptist Church, John was about to get into his car. I honked upon arrival, excited to see him. I parked the van and greeted him on the sidewalk. I look across the grass and see the Program Director marching her way over. She halts in front of us, skips the greeting and sputters out, “What is going on here?” To which I reply, “We’re just visiting.” She rolls her eyes and re-words her insinuation, “What is it that you think you’re doing?” She looks straight through me. “I’m visiting with my friend, John.” I say with a smile. John laughs. “Look. I don’t know who you think you are inserting yourself into this man’s life. You’re clearly preying on the elderly… taking advantage of the most vulnerable people”. I am flabbergasted. She goes on to say how it’s important to look out for our elderly and to be a community. “Amen!” I shout in agreement. “No, not amen,” she says. “This is not a holy conversation. We’re adults. We say ‘yes’.” “Did you hear what you just said?”, I ask her. 

John chimes in with a “Can we get your contact information?” She huffs back across the grass. John and I, albeit at a slower pace, follow. She grabs a piece of paper and says that she’s going to make a copy only to return minutes later to tell me that I’m not allowed on the property and that I need to leave immediately. She hands John the copy entitled “Facts About Elderly Abuse.” I am stunned. I manage to get out the words, “What are you basing this decision on?” She rejects the question and reiterates how I’ve been asked to leave. “I’m still waiting for that contact information.” She says I can call her supervisor, Joe, and rattles off a phone number faster than I can receive. She urges me to leave. “And your name?”, I ask. Linda is all she offers before turning away.

John and I walk back to our vehicles unsure of what really just happened. A client follows us out and starts snapping pictures of the van. She aims her phone at me. I hold up a peace sign as she snaps a pic. “What’s your legal name and how do you spell it?” She says. I tell her, this woman who took the mustard that wasn’t hers out of the fridge. This woman who, when offered the oranges, took the pudding. This woman who laid out accusation after slander after misconstrued facts after lies.

Ugh. John is my friend. Check yourself, people. And if we’re loving ourselves as we do our neighbor, based on these demonstrations, some of ourselves expect the worst out of others, and those people allow the worst out of themselves. May the Lord’s light shine upon you.