I was in a store today and was waited on by a woman I won’t ever forget. She said, out of the blue, “It’s one of those days. Remember how bad things come in three’s?” “Sure,” I said, “well this morning my husband’s van died, and then my Uncle got blood poisoning, and he’s ninety!. And the third is that my doctor said I better go and make funeral arrangements for myself, as there is nothing more they can do for me!”
I tried to make light of this statement, but discovered she wasn’t kidding. She has some form of rare eating processing problem, developed after forty, by both the woman and her brother. Her brother is on death watch, in hospital, at sixty-six pounds, and she will be following him.
After this we went about our business, and I was left holding the bag. She will die and I’ll never forget the conversation.
What’s the answer? Should I have delved into this strangers personal life (I guess I already had) or ignore her pleas? Why had she chosen me (actually she had chosen my wife and me)? Did she do this with everyone? Am I not accepting death as part of life? I will die and so will you but I don’t talk about this to strangers.
Immediately after telling us this story she said, “Oh, by the way, we’re redecorating the place.”
No comments:
Post a Comment