I watched her wobble down the supermarked aisle. Her little knee-high slipping down into one shoe as she shuffled slowly behind her cart.
She's in my way, but I don't want to fly past her and startle the old woman.
I try to remain patient and it's difficult. Can't she tell I have things to do, people to see, places to go?
Probably not.
I turn around in the aisle and go the other way, just so I don't knock her over in my frustration.
I head down the other aisle and pick out the things I need. When I looked up, I saw the blue haired road block meandering towards me. She's shuffling and smiling. The corners of her eyes falling into the wrinkles and ancient laugh lines.
As she passed me, I looked at her hands. All wrinkly and spotted. Her wedding band in place as it has been for about 100 years.
She's looks good and old.
Then the thought hit me.
One day I'm going to be old and wrinkly. I'm going to be unsteady on my feet, shuffle around, get in peoples way. Hopefully I won't be driving by then. I'll have witnessed life and the things it had to offer. Hopefully I won't be alone. I can only pray that I have all my marbles then and not be a burden on my son.
It's crap like this that keeps me awake at night.
