While sitting on a park bench reading br I overheard a man nearby br talking with his grandson. br br The grandson asked why there were br so many old folks in the park every day. br The grandfather told him perhaps they were br just too alone at home to stay there. br br Maybe they needed to be with other br old folks where they could share old jokes br or play a game of bocce ball br as they live in the park till dark. br br Maybe remembering names br became a game to ignore their pain br and the daily checkers games felt sane. br br Maybe to make time fly they antagonize br or criticize, sometimes even acting wise br till twilight comes to bring the night. br br Then they wave goodbye, br and God forgives the little white lie... br that they look forward to tomorrow. br Then they go home again br and back into the past, alone. br br The grandson nodded. br Then he asked the grampa br how he knew so much. br br The grampa was quiet for awhile. br Then he told the boy br when you got to be his age, br there were some things br you just know.br br C.J.