Looking out my front window I see the park. People seem to get good use out of it and I feel like I should take advantage of it more than I do. When we first moved into this house I was so excited to have this wonderful park so close to us. I've been over there a few times but haven't really used it the way I should. I look over there everyday. Families, groups of friends, couples...all enjoying the park. It's a nice sight, I really should join in the fun. Then there is one picnic table that always gets my attention. Probably because it is the one directly across from my front window, but also because it is the one table that is ALWAYS occupied. It never crossed my mind that this nice picnic area was anything more than that. Until about a week ago that is. It was then that I realized that table was something more...much more. After dinner out one night we drove through the park. Once again that table was taken and as I looked over at the man sitting there it finally dawned on me. This man wasn't just enjoying the beauty of the park for a few hours. No, he had made this his home. I had seen this man before, many times. He is often seen on a bench outside the Walgreen's when it's dark. Probably because it's open 24hrs. and it seems like a safe area to hang out. After all, you can only be in the park until dark so then he must find somewhere else to go. When I realized that this picnic table was this man's refuge I had so many emotions running through me. Sadness, anger, embarrassment, fear, empathy...you name it I felt it in that moment. One of the things that I was both embarrassed and angered by was that for weeks I had looked over into that park and all I saw were people enjoying their day. It never even crossed my mind that I was looking at a man who was homeless. Now my husband has always accused me of being the least observant person he knows, and although he has a valid point, I would have never thought I could overlook something so important. Maybe it's because I have had limited contact with the homeless. Growing up in a small town it wasn't a problem that smacked me in the face everyday. Sometimes I think that's what makes it easy for us to ignore..if we don't SEE it then it doesn't exist. Now I witness the problem everyday when I look out my front window. I find myself looking over at that table and seeing if he is there each day. I think about him, wondering what circumstances led him there. Is he mentally ill? Did he fall on hard times in our unstable economy? Perhaps he chose a life of drugs and alcohol and spiralled out of control. I don't know his story but it occupies my thoughts now. I wonder if his family has disowned him or if he has family at all. Maybe his children are worried where he might be. I've THOUGHT about going over there...talking to him, asking him about his life, and yet I stop myself each time. I tell myself that I'm being cautious. If he is mentally ill or angry maybe he would attack me or follow me home. But if I'm completely honest with myself I think it just makes me uncomfortable. I'm not proud to admit that, but it's the truth. We don't like things that make us uncomfortable and we rarely step outside of what affects our lives directly. I thought about NOT writing about this ...I don't think it paints me in a very good light, but that's the point isn't it. To admit that we need to pull our heads out of the sand...to look BEYOND just seeing the people having fun in the park? Sometimes, a picnic table is a whole lot more....
