I’d always been intrigued by Gary—initially, by his T-shirts. I first admired his official Washington Soldiers Home one—so much so, in fact, that I ended up buying one for my dad and one for me. Then it was his handmade tie-dyed one. But, although we’d joked around during Bingo, I’d never really talked to him, until one afternoon when Mike was sound asleep and I was amusing myself at the jigsaw puzzle in the activity center until he woke up.
I looked up, and there was Gary.
"Wanna help me with this?" I asked. "It’s a beast." (And it was – this one, a 1,000-piecer made up of tiny little pictures merged together, was worse than usual, but all the puzzles in the activity center are beastly by nature. Someone always just lays out every single piece, then, when you’re not looking, someone else shoves them all together haphazardly, so you’re always starting from scratch. Mike and I worked what was supposed to be a 500-piece Titanic puzzle last fall, but between all the missing pieces and all the taking apart and reconnecting, we probably put together 8,000 pieces.)
Gary wasn’t a puzzle guy—good to know. But it was a good chance to talk some more.
Gary, as it turns out, is a very wise guy, on a couple levels, and president of the residents’ council. He meets weekly with the superintendent to talk about residents' concerns – "187 people, with 187 wants and needs," Gary said – and acts as a liaison between the administration and veterans.
Our small talk turned into big talk, about medicine and health and family, and I realized this guy was more than intriguing—he was truly amazing, and inspiring, and I hoped he’d become a true friend.
I looked up, and there was Gary.
"Wanna help me with this?" I asked. "It’s a beast." (And it was – this one, a 1,000-piecer made up of tiny little pictures merged together, was worse than usual, but all the puzzles in the activity center are beastly by nature. Someone always just lays out every single piece, then, when you’re not looking, someone else shoves them all together haphazardly, so you’re always starting from scratch. Mike and I worked what was supposed to be a 500-piece Titanic puzzle last fall, but between all the missing pieces and all the taking apart and reconnecting, we probably put together 8,000 pieces.)
Gary wasn’t a puzzle guy—good to know. But it was a good chance to talk some more.
Gary, as it turns out, is a very wise guy, on a couple levels, and president of the residents’ council. He meets weekly with the superintendent to talk about residents' concerns – "187 people, with 187 wants and needs," Gary said – and acts as a liaison between the administration and veterans.
Our small talk turned into big talk, about medicine and health and family, and I realized this guy was more than intriguing—he was truly amazing, and inspiring, and I hoped he’d become a true friend.