There was an old lady…
Posted by blissandvinegar on July 3, 2007
I saw her in my peripheral vision. Falling.
Slightly past 7 this morning, I was walking the big black voodoo daddy, a weekday ritual. It amazes me what some folks wear when they come out in the morning to collect their daily news. I try not to make eye contact with these almost-awake neighborhood ghosts. Pretend they are invisible, and allow them to scurry back into their homes, seemingly undetected.
Today, an elderly lady scuffled out, wearing a thin housedress, hair awry. She saw us. And we pretended not to see her, as she turned to make her escape.
And then tripped.
I watched, one of those slow motion moments, as she crumpled to the ground, hitting her head. Then I ran (well, walked as fast as I could) to make sure she was alright, Big Daddy following in my wake.
There was no blood, but she was shaken. As I helped her up, I noticed her skin felt like damp newspaper, thin and cool, but soft. Her grey-black hair leapt from a white scalp, not completely covering it.
And I realized, that one day, this may be me. It may be any of us. And I was glad I was there for her.
I was afraid to leave her after I helped her to her feet, knowing that age and frailty makes one fragile. Bones can break, concussions can happen, people can die. But she said she wasn’t alone, and she was probably afraid of this stranger with an oversized, over-happy black dog coming into her home. I don’t blame her.
I wonder if she has lived a good life. And when I get to that point, will I feel that I have done the same.
Michele Bernard said
I’m glad you were there too. She’s lucky to have a good neighbor.
Forty Paws said
I can relate to “sneaking out to get the morning paper hoping desperately that no one sees me in my oversized T-shirt, middle-aged boobs hangin’ low…”
Poor old woman, not only did you see her, but you got up close and personal.
I don’t plan on getting old. That solves that problem.
pooks said
We saw something similar on an very early morning in Chester (England) across from the cathedral. An old woman in sensible shoes tripped on an unsensible cobblestone and went down. Hard. Hit her head. We ran to help, as did a couple of others. A young woman with a very soothing English accent (of course) convinced the old woman to allow her to walk along to her destination (the charity shop where the old woman volunteered) and share a cup of tea with her, and I thought, how … very English. (Of course.) To be able to salvage her dignity by simply asking if they can share a cuppa, and chatting amiably with her as they walked away.
Thanks for bringing back that memory.
And I’m cracking up at “the big black voodoo daddy.”
chapterhouse said
Yeah, me2, “big black voodoo daddy.” LOL!
The poor woman probably DID trust you – she was just humorgified.
Candace said
Tag, you’re it.
spicetalk said
I thought someone tagged you the other day?