While vacationing alone in Vermont in my early twenties, I visited the Norman Rockwell museum. The older person working there was as sweet as pie and I apologized for being the last tourist in the store and offered to hasten my musing so that she could close shop and go home. She explained that, since her husband passed, she found herself "not in any big hurry" to go home to an empty house. I found myself staying and listening to her for some time. I thoroughly enjoyed our visit and genuinely appreciated her knowledge. I remember that my heart went out to her and that I did not want to leave her. Though I fail to remember what I learned about her family situation – whether or not she had grandchildren to toss on her knee – I was glad that she had the museum in which to interact with others, that she had much to give.
Again, in my early twenties, I was fortunate enough to have befriended several older men who had known my grandfather – after my grandfather’s funeral, I was welcomed to their weekly gatherings held at Jerry’s restaurant in Jasper, Indiana. These gatherings, in which I took part for the next several years, seemed to fill a gap for me. (In retrospect, they did more than that: They enriched my world forever.) The men evidenced the possession of wisdom I lacked and they were patient enough to suffer a fool forty years their junior. Eventually, I learned to listen to lessons of life that can only be learned by those who have suffered the losses and triumphs and lived to exude each; Veterans of war and survivors of losses that I had not known. I was humbled by these talks.
I realize how fortunate I’ve been – that the encounters I’ve enjoyed with others have shaped the person I am today. People I’ve met through Bridges of Indiana have shared with me the observation that their lives, too, have been made richer by the people they encounter in the community or in their home.
Charlie Brooks, Regional Director
Bridges of Indiana
