Around this time many years ago, shortly after I moved to Chicago in 2008, my path literally crossed with another's.
From what I can remember, it was a day of St. Patrick's Day shenanigans in the city, which was likely the day the river was dyed green instead of the actual holiday of March 17th, and I was coming back from a friend's apartment after an alcohol-free hangout.
On my way home, I felt like I was the only sober girl in the city as I encountered the multitude of green-covered bodies with blood-shot eyes and mouthfuls of slurred words on the train rides and busy streets between apartments.
At the corner of an intersection in a neighborhood close to Wrigley Field, a few blocks away from my first Chicago apartment, a guy stood out in the noisy streets and city lights.
Now let me explain that the real reason he stood out was because he happened to be wearing one of those all-green spandex suits, which at the time I believe were new and not necessarily a quick online order, and he was moving playfully through the traffic and crowd.
I couldn't help but smile and laugh, walking alongside his friends as they apologized multiple times.
He was truly a stranger in the night.
Someone whose face I only saw for a moment when he unveiled it to me as we exchanged names and smiles.
Walking into my apartment, after turning down his invitation to join them at a party, I remember thinking how good it felt to laugh and have such a carefree and innocent moment. For a minute or two later that night, I wondered if I'd ever see that guy again, questioning if our paths crossed for more than just a few laughs, but they never did, at least that I know of.
Maybe it's the time of the year, or my reflections just how much life has changed since then, but last week I found myself thinking about that night and wondering...
Who was that guy?
What is he really like?
Did he ever go out again and make other people smile and laugh with his green man antics?
My perspective on life and empathy for others has grown so much over the years, with much due credit to my husband's illness making me much more aware of the daily struggles that patients and caregivers face in their battles against debilitating chronic diseases and life-threatening illnesses.
I think a lot more about the struggles that people face, wondering just how their lives have been impacted by love, heartbreak, stress, sickness, pain, trauma, grief, and mental health conditions.
I recognize that the people who appear so strong and put together are sometimes those who struggle the most, even if it doesn't seem that way in the eyes of others.
I wonder whose lives have been forever- changed by neurocognitive disorders, early-onset dementia, and neurodegenerative diseases.
Do they have family member with dementia?
Are they familiar with the diseases Frontotemporal Degeneration or Lewy Body Dementia?
Do they know the struggles of searching for a correct diagnosis and treatment for someone they love?
Have they watched their spouse, partner, or parent fade away before their eyes from these devastating diseases?
Are they a caregiver who is constantly feeling financial strains and suffering with anticipatory grief?
Are they grieving from the death of someone they loved?
And sometimes, I find myself questioning if the world we live in today- one fueled by cell phones, social media, and the need for instant "likes" and responses- has actually disconnected us from providing kindness and support to the people who need it the most.