Dare You — Walk Half A Mile In An Older Person’s Shoes?
A cheery smile can change your day — and theirs.
Yesterday morning, across a busy street, I saw a lady I recognised. I’ve no idea of her name, or where she lives; somewhere in my neighbourhood because our paths cross occasionally. In the past we’ve exchanged smiles, sometimes a Good morning, sometimes a quick chat about the weather. I’ve never seen her with anyone, she’s always on her own, often carrying a light bag of shopping.
Yesterday, there was no shopping bag. She was stooped, her eyes on the pavement, her back so bent it could have been carrying the world. She looked much older than I remembered, and my recall refused to say how many days had passed since I’d last seen her.
It was a busy road and I couldn’t call because of the traffic; I was running late and didn’t wait to cross. I wish I had. I’ve done little since but think about her, and today our paths didn’t intersect.
Seven years ago I walked with two canes. I had to walk to help slow the atrophying of muscles, but life had closed in, priorities had changed. My gaze was fixed on the ground in front of me, judging the camber, watching for trip hazards. Gentle gradients became my K2, my Everest. The only time I looked up was to check how distant was a wall, a gatepost, something…
