The elderly woman ahead of me seemed to be struggling with the quarters strewn all around the card reader. Her purchases remained on the end of the checkout area, along with two overused canvas bags with a name in faded red.
I decided I would not put my items up on the belt because I didn’t want her to get the impression that I was impatient. It was obvious that she was nervous, as her shaking hands and bent fingers moved the quarters from one spot to the other, counting out the amounts in a soft whisper.
“How much is it again?” she asked.
The cashier, in a kind and calm voice said, “The amount is just a penny over six dollars. That will be 24 quarters and please don’t worry about the penny.”
The woman nodded as she continued to count, stack, recount and then with a wave of her now shaking hand, she knocked down the stacks of her tiny silver castles and started over once again. As would be expected, the shoppers in line were getting just a bit frazzled.
One woman muttered, “For goodness’ sake, will someone help her? I will pay for her stuff. It is way too hot in this store and I am in a hurry.”
I am sure the customer did not hear the mumbling in the line behind her. She was concentrating on counting out 24 quarters, getting her things in one of her bags and leaving. Though I had my debit card, I reached in my wallet and counted out six dollars, along with a lone penny lurking in the bottom of my purse. The lady turned toward me, a look of fear in her eyes. I passed the $6.01 to the cashier, who then put the items into one of the bags and handed her the other bag. The woman walked slowly to the exit door, pausing to wave at me as she left.
I have not seen her since that day in the crowded, overly warm grocery store, but I have never forgotten her nor the panic in her eyes when she realized she could not count out the quarters needed to purchase the items on the counter. As I grow older, I notice changes within myself. I understand the aging process and the effect it has on many. I often do not trust a decision or an action I take, simply because I am frightened; just like that lovely elderly woman I have introduced to you in this yarn.
We are advised to enjoy our lives — our golden years. Sometimes, these accumulated years are hardly golden. We are well educated regarding our health by our doctors, television commercials and our social gatherings. We are left with much to ponder, my friends. Some of us wear or will soon wear hearing aids. We experience cataract surgery, heart issues, type II diabetes, wrinkles, and sometimes the loss of a spouse or a child.
How do we cope? How do we carry on? Life does not come with an instruction booklet, my friends. Life is a journey; an odyssey. Our lives are comparable to a book; filled with one chapter after another. It is filled with surprises; some good and some unsavory.
We handle the course of life in our own ways and with our own solutions. The lovely woman in this yarn accepted a helping hand. Part of maintaining our independence is reaching out when the load of life seems too much to bear.
We must be kind to ourselves and to each other. Much love.
Belinda Wilcox Hersey lives in Caribou with her husband, Kent. You may email her at belindahersy@gmail.com.
