We’re the Same: You, Me, and the Man Asleep

As I stared at the person before me I felt a tug on my heart that stung just a bit. It stopped me in my tracks.

I took notice of his black glasses clean and perfectly set aside on the bedside table across the room. Not far from it lay his iphone and Fitbit, both lying there just waiting for him to wake. In an instant perspective hit home and it hit hard. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I felt a tightness in my throat. Keep it together.

Keep. It. Together.

It hit me. This could be me. This is my nightstand.

I lay my glasses down at night typically on top of the book I’m reading. My Apple Watch and iPhone end up on the charger not far from where I sleep. I wake up the next morning ready to take on the day. I put my glasses on my face, my Apple Watch on my wrist, phone in hand. These are three things I typically don’t leave the house without.

And obviously he didn’t leave his house … without them either, and now here he lay …

Tubes everywhere fighting for his life. In. Out. As the machine breathes for him. His things just waiting in the corner of his room. Waiting for him to wake.

Then it hit me … again.

This man who laid before me was just that …

a man.

A man who is loved and cared for.

A man who I’m sure is deeply missed by those who love him. Does he have children? Or grandchildren? In those moments standing there I wondered what his laugh sounds like or if his eyes light up when he’s talking about something that makes him happy.

He’s a man who needs glasses to see. Maybe he likes to read like me. Maybe they find their resting place on top the book he’s currently reading. Maybe with his Fitbit he likes to track his heart rate. I know that’s a big reason why I like the Apple Watch. His iPhone hasn’t dinged in a few days. It’s probably dead by now. I’m sure he texts someone every day. Maybe his daughter if he has one? I’m sure she’s missing seeing “Dad” run across the screen of her own phone. I’m not sure what I’d do without 2:22.

As I stood there kind of struck by my own realizations I thought back to just a few days before. A few rooms over there was a man, and I took notice of the unlaced black boots in the corner of his room. Boots that would never feel the warmth of his feet ever again because he found his way home. Not his house. But his eternal home. All that was left of him were the pieces he left behind. Memories shared by loved ones. Boots. Glasses. A watch. A phone.

My heart broke.

We can get so caught up in the day to day. The to-do lists. The priorities. Who likes us. Who doesn’t. Our salary. Our reputation.

We lose sight of what matters. We lose sight that we’re all the same.

We bleed the same. No matter ethnicity or race.

We’re all loved. By one person or another whether our moms, husbands, wives, sons, daughters. We are all loved by someone.

We need glasses to see if our eyes fail us and we hate contacts.

We wear watches to tell time and track heart rates.

We have iPhones to text and talk to loved ones.

We wear boots to protect our feet.

You see, we’re the same you and me. We’re the same. You, me, and the man asleep.

We may not share the same beliefs, but at the end of the day …

Our glasses, watches, and phones are put away. Our boots by the door. And we rest. Only to do it all over when the sun rises again.