May 15, 2023·edited May 15, 2023Liked by Thomas Lloyd Qualls
When I moved during the early months of the pandemic to a different state (Wisconsin to Michigan), two weeks to stop the spread announced in March evolved into months of lockdowns. This made it a little bit trickier to meet new people, but not impossible. While hiking one day along a river down to where it empties into Lake Michigan, my path passed near a shelter by the marina. Inside the shelter seated at the picnic tables were a group of retired gentlemen who had been "evicted" due to covid from the restaurant they usually met in for coffee and conversation (every day except Sundays). They wanted to maintain this routine...this lifeline with each other. The shelter had electrical plugs so one man brought a rather old plug-in coffee pot so coffee and conversation could continue to flow. Their gathering never skipped a beat...they adapted. I sat down at an adjacent picnic table for some water and a protein bar. Our mutual curiosity lead to introductions and a conversation with an eventual invite for me to join the gentlemen any mornings I wished to. They became my introduction to the city and surrounding areas and I started baking and bringing breads, muffins, and breakfast casseroles to have with their coffee. I came for the companionship but stayed for the stories and to observe and enjoy the comradery and good-natured jesting that was part of their banter.
I just finished a John O'Donohue book, "Walking in Wonder", so I enjoyed that you led with a quote from him. I want the shape of my days to include more moments of "wonder". Three years past the lockdowns, I don't join the guys as much as I'd like, but I went this morning (they have returned to meeting in a local restaurant) and had the opportunity to meet two new men staying as guests with one of the regulars. What a fun morning of storytelling! You know how your face feels after laughing and smiling so much?! I came away feeling like that! In fact, I am still chuckling to myself an hour after leaving. It felt like being in the diner in a Seinfeld episode.
When I moved during the early months of the pandemic to a different state (Wisconsin to Michigan), two weeks to stop the spread announced in March evolved into months of lockdowns. This made it a little bit trickier to meet new people, but not impossible. While hiking one day along a river down to where it empties into Lake Michigan, my path passed near a shelter by the marina. Inside the shelter seated at the picnic tables were a group of retired gentlemen who had been "evicted" due to covid from the restaurant they usually met in for coffee and conversation (every day except Sundays). They wanted to maintain this routine...this lifeline with each other. The shelter had electrical plugs so one man brought a rather old plug-in coffee pot so coffee and conversation could continue to flow. Their gathering never skipped a beat...they adapted. I sat down at an adjacent picnic table for some water and a protein bar. Our mutual curiosity lead to introductions and a conversation with an eventual invite for me to join the gentlemen any mornings I wished to. They became my introduction to the city and surrounding areas and I started baking and bringing breads, muffins, and breakfast casseroles to have with their coffee. I came for the companionship but stayed for the stories and to observe and enjoy the comradery and good-natured jesting that was part of their banter.
I just finished a John O'Donohue book, "Walking in Wonder", so I enjoyed that you led with a quote from him. I want the shape of my days to include more moments of "wonder". Three years past the lockdowns, I don't join the guys as much as I'd like, but I went this morning (they have returned to meeting in a local restaurant) and had the opportunity to meet two new men staying as guests with one of the regulars. What a fun morning of storytelling! You know how your face feels after laughing and smiling so much?! I came away feeling like that! In fact, I am still chuckling to myself an hour after leaving. It felt like being in the diner in a Seinfeld episode.