Fiction: Short Story: Depressed Old Man

A man is severely depressed, crying in a crowded street, when someone comes to talk to him.

"No! No! No!" I heard a man frantically yelling as I started my walk home from work.

I turned around and there he was. Had to be in his 90's and he was just bawling his eyes out on the sidewalk. Crying and screaming out chants of No. People were walking past him, which was not unusual in this town.

I had too much on my mind. My wife and I had been fighting, again. My oldest son was failing algebra. My boss was really grinding my gears and working me to the bone. I swore it couldn't get any worse but today I found out that despite all that hard work, I wasn't getting that promotion that I most assuredly deserved.

I thought about continuing to walk but something inside of me told me to stop. "Can I do something to help you, sir?"

I reached my hand out to introduce myself. "I doubt it," he said, whimpering.

"Well, at least tell me what has you so upset that you're crying out here on the streets."

He wiped his tears away slightly. "You wouldn't understand,"

I probably wouldn't. "Maybe not, but I can hear. So talk to me old man, what's going on."

"They're taking her away," he began sobbing again. "They're taking her away!"

Oh lord, he is probably crazy and thinks someone's being abducted. Maybe I shouldn't have stopped. "They're taking who away? Who is they?"

He looked up and gave me the most sorrowful look I've ever seen. "My sweet Angela. My partner, my wife, the mother of my children."

"Who is taking her? Where are they taking her?" I asked, intrigued.

"My children." He cried. "My own flesh and blood!"

"I don't understand, why are they doing that?"

He let out a morose sigh. "She was late stage dementia. I've been her caretaker for the last twelve years and my children think it's aged me. I'm only 59. And it is taxing, it is rough but she's my lady. She's my love. I made a commitment to her and they are planting her in some stuffy nursing home."

"I'm sorry," wow, 59 I thought. His caretaking had really aged him. "I'm terribly, terribly sorry. What does she think of it?"

"Nothing," he bawled. "She has no idea who I am or who they are even. No idea. If I weren't disabled, I would stop this but I've been out of work, taking care of her. I have depleted all of our savings and all of our funds. She was a teacher for 30 years. She had a pretty pension. It's gone. My daughter asked me to move in with her but I'm so stinking mad at her because she's sending my wife away. She doesn't think it'll be safe for her mom or for her children. But I can't be without her."

He began wiping tears away and slowly stood up, relying on a cane to maintain his balance. "Listen, son, thinks for stopping by. You have compassion. I have to go, I just have to accept this. Be easy."

I waved goodbye.

You truly never know what someone is going through until you take a moment to listen. My heart hurt as I walked home that night, trying to think of anything more devastating than wanting with all your heart to care for the one you love but being unable to do so. It made me think about life, it made me think very hard.