By Heidi
Yesterday, a woman with delicate white whiskers on her chin stopped me in the street. She was pushing a walker on wheels and her legs were bare despite the cold. She told me she hated being old and wished she was still young.
“You should be grateful to be young, I wish I was still young!” she said with the wild-eyed ferocity of an Old Testament prophet. She gripped my hands.
She told me her husband had died six months ago. Then she said she got a letter last week telling her that she would be getting 25 pence more each month for her pension.
“What am I going to do with that? That won’t even buy flowers for his grave. Being old is terrible,” she shook her head, “terrible.”
She looked at me again and seemed almost surprised to find me there holding her hand. She thanked me for stopping to talk to her and turned to slowly push away.
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[See all the Encounters guest posts here.]
For the next 4 weeks (through Friday, December 28, 2012), we’d love for you to share any encounters you’ve had. Selected submissions will be published on Doves & Serpents. Submissions should be sent to guest guestposts@dovesandserpents.org (please see our guest post guide).
No way! She appeared like a Shakespearean witch. Age is a thief. It seems like life is supposed to get better with time and contemplating that her feelings may be closer to reality is scarier than hell.