Life

WAIT!

“There will be a fifteen to twenty minute wait; we will call you when your table is ready.” “Please take a number and wait for the next available clerk.” “Make yourself comfortable in the waiting room; your car will be ready shortly.” “You will have a three hour lay-over between flights.” And so, I dutifully pick up a stale magazine or start next week’s grocery list or simply “go on hold” (you know, when your eyes glaze over, you start twirling your hair with your little finger and, as you cross your legs, your top leg starts to swing like a metronome) . It’s called WAITING. However, I dislike wasting time and, since the stages and activities of our lives seem to require periods of “biding one’s time,” I decided to observe how other people handle life’s intervals. A recent wait at the airport provided the opportunity. Upon settling into…

Continue ReadingWAIT!

Waving

From my air-conditioned car, I could see glistening beads of sweat run down the flagman’s face. As he took a swipe at them with one hand, he directed traffic through the construction zone with the other. His was not an easy job; I waved. He waved back and then he smiled. It was still a hot day, but maybe it helped to be appreciated. I also wave my appreciation when other drivers stop to allow me to pull into traffic. I wave from my yard to neighbors who pass by, even if we’ve never met. I like to wave to people. But, I am concerned that, over the past few years, the number of those of us who wave is diminishing. Are we becoming an endangered species? When I was growing up, waving was practically a national pastime. We waved to each other, friends and strangers, from our porches, our…

Continue ReadingWaving

Aging is Hard Work

“Oh, would you look at that,” Della exclaimed, her face brightening with a huge appreciative smile, “Isn’t it just beautiful?!” I looked at the blank wall in the hallway where she was pointing. “What do you see, Della?” I asked. I stopped pushing her wheel chair and tried to follow her finger, my eyes straining to see what her vision had revealed to her. “See, over there in that lovely green meadow by the creek,” she persisted, “the cow and her calf--isn’t it a wonderful sight?!” I looked from the unrevealing wall to her raptured face. What she saw brought her so much joy and delight that it was contagious. I felt a smile spread over my own face. “Yes it is, Della,” I answered, “thanks for pointing it out to me. Now let’s get you down to the dining room for lunch.” On another routine day at my job…

Continue ReadingAging is Hard Work

Boots

The boots had always been there, inside the back door at the bottom of the stairs leading to my friend’s kitchen. We all went visiting through her back door; the front door was reserved for formal visitors. No one remembered when the front door was last used. And so, after her smiling face, the boots were the next things I saw when she opened her door. Silent sentinels, worn and tired, they made no apology for their appearance. The alchemy of time had changed the composition of the soles, and they were brittle and cracked. In contrast, the high-top leather uppers had grown into soft molds of my friend’s feet and ankles. The gouges, nicks, and scrapes had not rendered them less serviceable through the years. In fact, it had been a rare day that they were not called into service. They were a tribute to the lessons taught early…

Continue ReadingBoots