Rickety Old Man

As the relentless wind moved through the backyard it was mixed with a different sound this time. The squeaky rattle eased along from behind the fence left to right until there was only the sound of the howling wind to answer my curiosity. I pushed up onto my tippy-toes and instinctively my chin jet out to give me those few more inches of the picture. There he was again. My rickety old man.

Over the past year he had appeared out of no where several times...always on a mission. Every time he creaked along the sidewalk in his tan jacket. I wonder why he wore that jacket year round? I knew why he was creaking. With a slight hunch and a shuffle that melted my heart, it was apparent that the years had caught up to him. Whether a sweltering summer day or brisk evening he made the over two mile journey to the grocery store. His feeble arms dragged along a rickety cart with a reusable red sack lodged inside. The rickety old man with his rickety old cart. It's admirable that he's walking to get groceries...maybe he can't drive anymore...maybe I should walk to the grocery store. It was past 9pm and he was just on his way...it would be late before he'd arrive home. I pondered offering him a ride as I did every time I saw him. The guilt of watching him hobble on tore into me, but I didn't call out. I never did. Beyond the selfish feelings of potential awkwardness there was something else holding me back.

She lived in her home outside Chicago for nearly 40 years. Each week she made the mile plus trek to the grocery store, the dollar store, the tasty shop and the beauty parlor. She was able to drive, but she preferred to walk. She took her time to socialize and ease down every aisle at her leisure. Retired and living alone it was something to occupy her days and she looked forward to it. A big piece of her daily routine was lost when walking that distance carrying grocery bags was no longer possible. Shortly after that she was no longer able to drive safely. All the freedoms she'd spent eons accustomed to were 'taken away'. That was what getting older entailed for her and while I couldn't understand why it hurt her to such a degree the loneliness and sadness I felt.

Walk on my rickety old man.

From the archives...

-from the archives-
Does everyone experience their 20s like this? Anxious, unsettled,...stressed. I thought stress was mainly for college exams or married-in-your-40s-with-kids-to-send-to-college...not for the mid-late 20s! Not the prime of your life - ?- 20s are supposed to be full of adventure, independence, finding yourself. That seems a long way from my office-space, domestic bliss existence in the armpit of the mid-west. The biggest adventure during my week is navigating the treacherous roads to and from work each day (developing a new combination of expletives to describe the inability of those sharing the merge lane with me to drive)...and perhaps splurging on a cherry coke. What a feeling it must be to have a passion...to feel a purpose to your days. I envy those who are dedicated to a cause or possess a useful talent that brings happiness. It seems too early in my life to feel such an anxiety or panic...is my life really passing me by? Are the best days behind me? Surely not. I feel the youth escaping me with every 8:30pm get-ready-for-bed routine. Have I turned into that bitter old lady at the ripe old age of 25? What I thought life in my 20s would be like...travel...city life...dating...discovering who I was and what I wanted to do...where I wanted to go with the rest of my life...I don't know what I want anymore. What will me happy?! I'll never know without trying various things - trial and error...it won't find me...paralyzed...security, comfort-zone, routine. I wake up lately with an alarming feeling - I've been worrying about something in my sleep that only remains in the form of adrenaline, a sweat and nervous stomach. How do I clear my head...

She envisioned her mind as hundreds of tangled wires, all sparking at the ends rather than terminating in a distinct, uncluttered way. It was always racing, always leaving her with the sinking feeling of forgetting something important. Today was no exception. In the middle of pondering lasagna-making she felt the anxiety take over. What was she worried about now? Her relationship? Her job? She wondered if she'd ever really know.
To an ordinary person everything in her life seemed to be going well, but this was no ordinary girl. Ordinary girls don't have the expectations for their lives like this girl did. 'Just okay' wasn't good enough; she demanded the world and more! What she feared most was that she would not really live her life, at least not to its full potential. She questioned whether her fire was squelched and became paralyzed by the choices she wasn't sure she had or knew how to make.
She pushed aside the thought of delicious lasagna to focus on herself for a moment. What did she need; what did she want? ... Clarity. The decision was made to spend the year exploring what her heart and mind were really trying to communicate. She wistfully thought that just maybe she could transform her life thoughts out of the borderline coherent state they were currently in.