Memorial service for a stranger

A steady stream of people trickled through the basement of the Masonic Lodge in Derry, N.H. Friday afternoon and evening, the guests there to pay tribute to a man many of them had never met. He was Robert Young, 75, “the man by the side of the road,” who died the previous Saturday when he was struck by a car. Tables lined the walls, each bearing an exhibit that added a page to the chronicle of his life. Newspaper clippings outlined the years when he ran an art gallery in the barn across the street from his home on busy Route 102. Samples of his artwork, raw and gripping, stood nearby. Pictures of him and his longtime partner, who predeceased him, captured the love they had once shared, showing the two of them arm in arm, smiling as though love has no end, and maybe it doesn’t. Cut-out silhouettes of hands paid homage to the habit for which he was most well-known – sitting in front of his house on a chair, waving to every passing car. “Never underestimate the power of a smile and a wave,” read one hand-made poster, which had been left at his home after his death and brought to the Masonic Lodge for his service. The tributes left at his home and brought to the lodge were perhaps the most moving because they had a theme. “I am the blonde teenager in the SUV who always waved back so excitedly,” read one scrawled message. “I always meant to stop and talk to you but I never did.” Another note, written in childish handwriting by two siblings, explained how they always pressed their noses against the window of the schoolbus when they went by his house so they could see him wave and wave back. Another note, presumably written by a fellow waver, said only, “I never felt so bad about losing someone I never met.” Rick, too, had always planned to stop and talk to him, but had always been too busy. Now, the “busyness” seems so secondary. If only we could all go back in time and take those few moments to act on our impulses and stop and say thanks for the momentary but important joy he brought each day. If only we could remember to act on those same impulses when a future opportunity comes along. And recognize it when it is there.