I met a man along the path of my power walk into the forest. I heard a voice call out my name from around the bend. I sped up to see who it was and I see the back of an elderly man with a walking stick. How'd he know my name? He didn't look familiar, but he seemed to know me. I pretended to know him like an old friend, hoping he didn't notice I forgot who he was. They say older people lose their memory, but it's true for the young ones too!
Alas, I humoured him and listened as he told me about his health failures and triumphs. He glowed as he told me he hadn't smoked in 7 years nor drunk in 2. His heart and lungs used to fail him, but now he can walk farther and farther every day. He boasted about walking El Camino in Spain years ago and hopes to do it again one day - which reminds me, I MUST watch "The Way" according to him. I'm sure he'll ask me if I watched it yet the next time I bump into him.
Several minutes into our slow ascent up the hill, he asks for my name. "Caitlyn," I told the man.
"Beautiful beautiful name. I had an aunt Caty." Looking confused, I said I thought he knew my name because he called it, but he shakes his head.
"Sometimes I do that. I feel the presence of a spirit of a loved one and say their name." Now I'm wondering - is this man crazy? Am I imagining him? He decides to rest on a rock and waves me off, "I won't hold you back any longer." I'm sure this man would've chatted all day if he could keep up with my pace, or perhaps he disappeared from the rock after I left and called out someone else's name.
