The Silent Cheers

Years ago, when my three children were very small and I was knee deep in playgroups, toilet training and Sesame Street, I was deeply affected by an elderly couple whom I had never even met.

It was during those hectic, anything-goes-and-usually-does years, when you know that the man you are living with is your husband but you are both torn in so many directions that sometimes he simply looks like a vaguely familiar boyfriend from another era. And occasionally, you wonder if you’ll ever have that one-on-one, lazy-day, what-do-you-want to-do time together again.

As part of my daily routine during those busy years, I would often drive down a neighborhood road that took me to kindergarten, the grocery store, soccer practice and the playground. And early one spring, I started to notice a couple in their mid-to-late 70’s who were often out walking together as I drove by.

Their heights and weights were roughly the same and they both appeared slender and fit with beautiful, thick, gray hair. He typically wore khaki colored pants, white tennis shoes and a lightweight gray jacket. She wore beige pants, white tennis shoes and a heavy knit, gray and white sweater. For some reason they caught my eye and I began to watch for them as I traveled back and forth from my various child-focused activities. I started thinking of them as “the Gray Couple.”

Sometimes they carried groceries, other times they held hands. Frequently, they bent their heads together, lost in conversation, or glanced at each other with a warm smile on their lips. Always, they appeared relaxed and comfortable with each other in the way that only comes from a relationship of many years and much love. They seemed like two peas in a pod and I started wondering who they were, where they lived, and what their lives were like. How long had they been married? Did they have kids? Were they both retired? Which house was theirs?

As the days and weeks passed, I looked for them when I journeyed out with my young brood in tow and when I spotted them, I would smile to myself and feel deeply reassured that all was right with the world. In a funny way, they became role models for how I hoped my husband and I would be years later, after all the children had grown, play-dates were a thing of the past and we were alone again.

I occasionally wondered about them when I was cooking dinner or tossing another load of laundry in the dryer. I liked them and felt inspired by them and their seeming devotion to each other, even though I had never spoken to them or even seen them up close.

One day, I was returning from the grocery store with all the makings for a mid- summer barbeque when I spotted Mr. Gray walking alone, carrying a bag of groceries. I had never before seen one without the other and I felt a mild wave of anxiety wash over me. Where was she? I checked in my rearview mirror for any sign of distress on his face.

None was evident, but then again, I didn’t know this man from Adam so how could I really tell? From then on, I kept a special look-out for them and would, once-in-a-while, see Mr. Gray on his regular route. But he was always by himself. I wanted to stop the car and ask him what had happened to his wife, but knew that I never could.

Still, I worried about them both. It surprised me greatly that I should have such strong feelings of concern for two people whom I had never met and in all probability, never would. All the same, and unbeknownst to them, the Grays were getting occasional prayers sent by me and I hoped with all my heart that I would see Mrs. Gray again.

Then one fall day, exhausted after a day-long field trip to the Zoo with 26 first-graders, I saw them together. Mrs. Gray had her arm in a sling and was walking with a bit less self-confidence than usual. Mr. Gray had his hand resting gently on her back. Clearly, she had had some kind of an accident but she seemed to be okay. My relief and joy were palpable. I drove home with newfound energy and a surprising lightness in my heart.

Later that night, I began to wonder at the entire saga that I had silently participated in with total strangers. It made me think about how many times this sort of thing must happen. How many unseen and unknown friends did each of us have? How many people were secretly cheering us on and even praying for us? And how many people were being affected by the way that we live our lives, however simple, without us ever knowing?

It hit me then how significant each life, regardless of status or position, really is and how important it is for us to do our best to actively live the qualities we hold high. It’s very likely that we may be a source of inspiration, or despair, for the people around us — be they strangers or friends.

The truth is, we are all connected and in the soup of life together, whether we recognize it or not. The Grays had shown me how warm, companionable and tender life could be for my husband and me later on when we, too, were old and gray. They gave me a lovely picture to hold in my heart, treasure, and reach for later.

And they had accomplished all of this by simply going about their ordinary, every day business with grace and dignity. Many years later, I still find myself remembering them and wishing them well. And that, I think, is kind of a miracle.