There was a new guy at Bingo, and he was rather striking. Younger by half than most of the players, he was rugged-looking and buff, wearing cool blue-and-white board shorts, bright-blue matching skate sneakers and a necklace of puka shells. He was in a wheelchair and wore biking-style gloves for grip, because he was not about to move slowly.
He kind of stood out in the crowd.
His name was Wesley. He told me he really liked blue—which made sense, considering his clothes. I was wearing blue, and so were his Bingo tablemates: Doug in blue sweats, and Arla in a matching light-blue shirt and pants. Wesley also has movie-star-blue eyes.
I pegged him as young, tough and, dare I say, studly.
Then Wesley got a Bingo. And that young, tough, studly hunk clapped in his lap, cheered "Yay" and picked a stuffed and cuddly blue dolphin as his prize. In fact, whenever anyone around him got a bingo, Wesley clapped and cheered.
It was one of the sweetest things I have ever seen, as well as a valuable lesson, which has been reinforced time after time: At the veterans home, you simply should not make assumptions.
He kind of stood out in the crowd.
His name was Wesley. He told me he really liked blue—which made sense, considering his clothes. I was wearing blue, and so were his Bingo tablemates: Doug in blue sweats, and Arla in a matching light-blue shirt and pants. Wesley also has movie-star-blue eyes.
I pegged him as young, tough and, dare I say, studly.
Then Wesley got a Bingo. And that young, tough, studly hunk clapped in his lap, cheered "Yay" and picked a stuffed and cuddly blue dolphin as his prize. In fact, whenever anyone around him got a bingo, Wesley clapped and cheered.
It was one of the sweetest things I have ever seen, as well as a valuable lesson, which has been reinforced time after time: At the veterans home, you simply should not make assumptions.