Today I went to see him at the Old Peoples' home.
they have a garden there and I saw a man sitting at a table who looked as if he might be father's old friend, Mr. Lefkowitz. We looked at each other for a minute or two.
"Mr. Lefkowitz?" I asked, timidly, not at all sure.
It was he. He knew who I was but hadn't said anything. I think he was afraid I hadn't come to see him. All the old people in this garden look at you hopefully. Perhaps someone had come to see them.
It's sad.
He asked after my mother. He hadn't known that she had passed away three years ago.
How's your brother, Ludwig?
I liked the 'Ludwig'. I think no one else in the whole world calls my brother, Ludwig.
And your sister, Sara? She married a doctor, didn't she?
Well, a dentist.
That's just as good.
And how's your health? I asked him. Are you well?
"That's the saving Grace", he answered, smiling at his own joke. "I'm not sick."
How do you feel here, at this place?
"I never knew it could be so hard -- I don't know a word of Hebrew.
Does no one know English?
Not a one!
And your Yiddish, German?
"Never knew it." He merely said it. No dramatics, Just a statement.
Sad!
No one to speak to all day long. What else is there?
He walks with great difficulty, shuffling along slowly but he still has dignity. He's straight and tall and his eyes are clear blue.
Do you play any games? Chess maybe -- or cards, Scrabble?
I thought maybe I'd come around and spend an hour playing chess or scrabble with him since he loves words. He made another joke but I'm not sure of it. Perhaps it was because he said to me, "I've no time to waste on games."
Perhaps I thought that was funny. I couldn't resist a small smile when he said," There's so much to do. I've no time to waste on games. And he meant it.
It wasn't funny to him.
He was then called for supper.
He said he'd rather sit and talk to me for the little while till they would call again.
I walked with him slowly to the dining room.
"Lefkowitz, eat," they shouted at him. There is no language, you see.
He held out his hand to say goodbye. And I promised to come again. And I will. It must be terribly lonesome for him there.
I asked him if you were coming. I told him I had a letter from you and he wanted to show me a letter from you but he couldn't find it.
Does he really have one? He told me he would know if you were coming. Are you?
I spoke to no one else. I felt their glances after me. It's such a lonesome business getting old. That's all.