Curiousity killed the cat

I am never sure how others see my way of thinking though with some exceptions. As I told somebody recently, a good friend of mine has equated my way of thinking with a train track covered in super glue among other things. He will get stuck on one railing and I will already be off and slopping glue onto a totally different railing (translate- subject). Also that the way I think is like getting all comfy in a train ready to enjoy the ride when WHAM up comes the captain to announce that you boarded the wrong train and the one YOU want is that one zooming past on the other track. I've never been quite sure if being described this way is good or bad.

Anyway, getting to my point, the other day a gentlemen posted on one of my entries saying something to the effect that he would look through car windows as he passed people driving and wonder about those people.

I have always done things like that. When I used to walk many miles a day, one thing that kept my mind occupied was looking at peoples houses (AT not IN... i'm not a peeping tom) and wondering about the occupants. Were they happy? Did the husband and wife love each other? Were they all going to sit down to dinner together tonight or would they all go their separate ways because there was no connection between them?

I see people in the grocery store and wonder things like that too. That heavy woman buying the ice cream and chocolate cake from the bakery? Will she be embarrassed when she gets to the check out because people will be thinking (at least in her mind if nothing else) that buying things like that is why she is fat? Or the man buying the TV dinners. Is he lonely... alone... wishing he had someone at home with whom he could share a REAL meal?

It is when I see the elderly and children with the angry parents that my mind really gets whirling sometimes to the point of giving myself a choked up feeling. I will see the elderly... that little old man putting cans of beans in his cart or that stooped lady carefully using a calculator as she slowly walks through the produce aisle checking prices... and wonder about their lives.

I have a soft spot for the elderly brought on by I guess my own personality and by working at Home Health Care and seeing how forgotten many of them become. That little old man with the beans... does anyone come see him or does he eats them alone in front of his TV wondering why his children never call and wishing that once, just ONCE, he didn't have to choose between paying his bills and eating decently because his Social Security doesn't stretch far enough? Or does he deserve his loneliness because he was an ornery bugger in earlier life?

That old lady? Is she a widow who is just sadly waiting for time to pass so she can join her husband or is she just a grouchy old biddy too cheap to NOT use a calculator? Does she still roll over in bed at night and feel the cold on the other side or is she used to it now?

That woman with the ice cream? That man with the TV dinners? I see them and others like them and I can't stop my vivid imagination from seeing them in their homes... alone... wanting company but having none. I want to guide them towards each other and say "hi you don't know me but I've watched you... how 'bout we introduce ourselves and would you like to come over Friday and play some cards"? But that is a quick road to a loony bin.

Those children with the angry parents? You know the ones I mean. Not the child who has actually done something to deserve rebuke but the one who is choking back a sob with fear in his eyes because he has been told that if he makes one more move or one more sound he will "get slapped and slapped hard dammit". I see those children and wonder what their futures hold and wonder if my fiance would kill me if I started bringing home stray kids like kittens.

Sighhh... so may people... so many stories. I want to know them all and write them down so we never forget the connection between us all.