Gratitude

It’s been a while since I thought about him, “The Smiler” The man with the beautiful smile and glistening eyes that always seemed eager for a pleasant conversation and always had time for a friendly “Hello, how are you?”... Mr. Martinez. He lives on the block that I once lived on, the block that my children still live on half the time with their father and his girlfriend.
The block that houses people of my recent past, my ex in-laws and their long time neighbors, the block that holds my children’s father’s childhood memories.
I lived on that block for 5 years, a mere fraction of the time the Smiler has, during that time I must have walked down it thousands of times, through all four seasons, carrying bundles, pushing a stroller, rushing off to work or to pick up the kids. Often I would see him outside his house puttering around, he would always look up, always with that same friendly smile. He reminded me of my father in his later years, there was something distinctly sentimental about his look, something shy but open at the same time,his energy seemed unrelentingly kind and loving. I never really knew him. I almost never stopped to talk, except when my kids were dawdling or learning how to walk, the pace was much too slow to avoid his welcoming glance and it seemed futile not to strike up a conversation. We mostly talked about the kids, he knew my ex’s family for many years and would always ask about them, eager to hear, as though their lives were a vital part of his.
When I moved out of that house I never saw him, it’s been 3 years.
Today I was walking down the street with my 6 year old daughter and when I looked up there he was… a petite old man wearing glasses and bundled up in a wool winter coat and cap, slowing walking down seventh avenue. I wasn’t sure he would remember me at first, as I gradually started to walk past him I saw him slow down to look at my daughter and then at me and then back to my daughter while slowing to a stop. I stopped and smiled at him and he asked me while pointing to my daughter “Rrrrrossman?” I responded “Yes that’s her, I’m her mother" (so as not to be confused with a babysitter). He turned towards me with wide eyes and the most beautiful smile and said in a thick Spanish accent “You! Yes You! I didn’t recognize you, your hair looks different, how are you? You look good, you moved away so quickly, only after a few years, I have been on that block 40 years, and I know everybody. How are you? How are you? Are you Ok? Are you married?” he was so eager to hear about my life and me, he glowed and so did I. He said I looked happy. As we talked I looked down at my daughter who was smiling up at us, she too was swept up in the infectious energy of the moment.
As we parted I felt compelled to give him a hug, as I released him I saw his eyes get watery, and in that moment I felt loving gratitude for being remembered and seen through the eyes of The Smiler.