The people in the neighbourhood: the social revalidated senior
He usually stands in his doorway while we pass on our way to school. Over the years, I’ve watched him change. When I first noticed him, he wore loose, comfortable clothes. A medical bag hung at his side. He didn’t seem very mobile, observing the street from his doorstep. His timing felt deliberate. Early mornings and late afternoons, when schools nearby were starting or finishing and parents passed by with children. We would nod as we walked past. Months went by. The medical bag disappeared. Later, his clothes became a little more formal — a proper shirt, better trousers — but the habit remained. Still standing in his red doorway, at the top of the three steps leading inside. Still nodding. For years we passed him like that. He must have watched our boys grow up — from wobbling toddlers to schoolboys with heavy backpacks and loud conversations as they hurried past. Then, one summer, the boys came home with Jan carrying a large stack of football stickers. He had asked them if they had t...
