Too many of us when we reach a certain age, got too tired of jumping through the hoops it takes of maneuvering through yet another relationship. It's much easier to just let the whole thing go. It's just not worth the effort any more. That's pretty much how I thought.
After two failed marriages and way too many other failed attempts at relationships, it's often easier to just let that whole thing go. Kinda makes you feel dead inside though, thinking that your life is over (except you keep on living). There's only so much that watching TV and going out to music alone can do for you.
And that's pretty much how I was feeling. It was hard enough going to movies and eating out alone, but going to hear music? Or going to the theater? So you sit at home and melt into the couch and then melt into your bed.
Going grocery shopping is the high point of most of my weeks. If the sun is out and it's warm, going for walks in the park. (Except that most parks are filled with children and families running around, making you feel even lonelier.)
No, I didn't have any children. And too many of my friends have since either gone their own ways, or worse yet, died.
I'm too old for any dating scene. No longer lively enough to go to a gym. Yeah, you might say that I'm in dire straights, just crawling along waiting for whatever fate my body has in store for me.
Of course, I didn't know that I was soon going to meet a senior citizen tornado that would defy all of my "declining years" experience.
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Meandering through the aisles at the local store can be a way to postpone loneliness, but then you're often confronted by younger versions of what you could have been but weren't. And then there's the whole couples/families thing again.
So I was surprised when on one trip, I felt a tug on my shirt sleeve from behind. I turned around to start to scold whoever it was, but what I saw was a kindly but perplexed face. "Would you mind reaching up on that top shelf for me and getting that jar of pickles please?"
She didn't look much older than I was, but I noticed that she had a bit of palsy in her right hand and I felt sorry for her. Imagine, someone making me feel younger than I am. That was her.
Handing the jar to her, I was about to turn away. "Thank you for that. An old woman has to find whatever help that she can these days."
Old? Yes, she looked on the older side, but not as old as the implication in her voice said she thought she was. "I'm glad I could help," I told her, preparing to move away again.
"I was wondering," she began, "If you would like some company while you're shopping."
I turned to look at her again, and looked harder this time. She had curly steel grey hair and lines in her face, but I didn't necessarily see a much older woman than I was, and I'm sixty-seven. It's not as if she looked too old to be shopping by herself.
But she had a soft pleading look in her eyes that screamed 'I'm lonely, can you spend some time with me?'
Of course, it mirrored what I had been feeling, so I gently laid my hand on hers and looked into her eyes. I suddenly saw hope there staring back at me. There was also a hint of a tear forming in her left eye as well.
Well, an afternoon shopping with this 'older lady' (who again looked to be my age) might not be a bad thing. "What else do you need?" I asked her, as gently as I could.
"Oh, well that might be a loaded question," she replied, with a hint of playfulness coming through.
"What other groceries do you need?" I asked, this time phrasing it more on point, wondering, 'What am I getting myself into?'
"Oh, just a few things. I'm here just to get out of the house mainly," she said, with what could have been a wink, or could have been a tremor in her right eye.
Hmmmmm
, I thought. Is this her playing a game? Or is she flirting with me? It had been so long since a woman had flirted with me, I wasn't sure now that I could see the difference.
"My name is Margaret, by the way, but you can call me Maggie" she said with a smile. After a second hesitation on why part, "And your name is?" she prompted.
"Trevor."
"Oh! As in the English actor Trevor Howard?" She asked rather spritely. Most people even of our age wouldn't have gotten the reference.
"Precisely," I said in my best English accent.
"I must say!" She said in a much better accent than mine.
"Were you an actor?" I asked her, now getting intrigued. She was getting more 'interesting' by the minute.
"Once an, Actor, always an actor," she said, this time with a definite wink. And then she stopped stooping so much, and began straightening up more.
"Would I have known you from any roles?" I asked her. Maybe she was just acting like she was an old lady before, I thought. Or rather, I hoped. I thought I saw her demeanor change subtly and take on a more younger seeming attitude.
"Oh, I doubt that. I always played the best friend or later the mother roles. Not exactly leading material. And you?"
"I had one upon a time come to be an actor here. I fell into writing however instead."
"Good fall," she said with a smirk. "Anything I would have known or seen?"
"I'm afraid not. Mostly I was a re-writer. Perking up the odd script with dialogue. Never really a big winner for me either."
