The Right Place @ The Right Time

Posted: February 13, 2013 in Uncategorized

Today, after taking care of, what amounted to, not much, my journey began again.

Pulling over to the side of an unknown road, I perused the world; my eyes going to and fro. What I saw there, caused my spirit to rise- and I began to exhale, into the storm.

Need I explain to you, the details? But then, all you must do is look upon my wall.

The handwriting is all there.

Suddenly, I am approached by a 94 year old woman, at my window. A sweet, old woman, with 5 grocery bags, hanging from her frail, old wrists. It’s a warm day…

The nice man that is usually there to take her home, (6 blocks away) is not here today.


I was moved, on the short ride, to drive slowly, so as not to jolt her around, understanding pain, from my own injuries and from the perspective of a soon-to-be licensed massage therapist…

Disregarding her request to be dropped off at the corner, I took her the last 150 feet, across the “dangerous” road that- I breeze over, every day. She talked of being eternally grateful and asked me my name, as she slowly got out of my truck. Walking her to the front porch of her mobile home, I placed the bags down and she took my hand and told me that the world was full of evil people and how wonderful it is to meet good people. I told her that sometimes, we even need to help out angels, to which, she chuckled and refuted my flattery, saying, she was no angel. I said “God bless” and bid her adieu.

Driving the large circle to exit the mobile home park, I felt extremely grateful, that God would bless me with such a gift.

And back across the street, I flew..

Finding a new place to park, under some semblance of shade, I resumed my way.

I guess, today, the Universal Sense of Humor, had it in for me….

Without warning… Out of nowhere…

There stands, at my window, a woman who looked even older.

She has wrinkles to beat the band and -her eyes-, though set recessed; surrounded by reflections of many years of tears and smiles, are the blue of a crystal clear Maui shore.

As she stands and talks with me of the evil people, where she lives, who ignore her and treat her mean, I assure her that evil people will not be charge much longer and that it will be ok if she just keeps breathing. With each passing car, she attempts to hail them down, though it appears to the drivers, that she is waving neighborly, to them. She says maybe they will stop, and even gets excited, when they pull into a nearby driveway, thinking, her salvation had arrived. When I asked her if the people where she lived had hurt her, she offered a shrugged “no”, but quickly followed it with a cringed face of a child, who is trying not to break into a sobbing mess. Turns out, she says her daughter is the one, running the house, and while she will not condemn her daughter’s treatment of her, she declares not wanting to ever go back. It is at this point, that I get her attention with a bit of authority, with a single word, el fuerte. “Hey”, with just a hint of stern-ness, is enough to make her look away from the dreaded image, she is obviously picturing in her mind. I tell her to take a deep breath… In the nose.. and I do it with her.. As she is exhaling, I call to her attention, the beautiful day that she is out, walking in- and “cunning as a snake, yet innocent as a lamb”, comes to mind. I ask her how long it has been, since her feet have been outside. “Too long”, she replies, as if wishing she could remember…

I ask her if she has other kids, several times, since her hearing is as bad as my vision.. She thinks she had just the 1, but she cannot remember her name. She says she’s from Michigan, but cannot remember the name of the city. When I mention living by Cleveland, she pops up with, “I lived in flint, most my life”.. I say it’s cold up there and she responds by telling me “yeah, but it not near as bad as what’s happening in the city here. I can tell I’m getting nowhere, so I decide to bluff: “Should I call the police?”

I need to get her off the street, and she has yet to tell me where she lives and how to contact anyone… “No..” she says. “Would you like me to take you home?”

Now, when she answers, I hear a sigh of relief, as she says, “Oh would you please?”

“Certainly. Just let me clear this seat for you.” Home ends up to be 2 blocks up the road. On the way, she asks me my name. After repeating myself several times, she finally realized, I was not saying “Jay”. It was at this point, she looked at me and stated my first name then waited quietly for the rest. When I pull up to the white picket fence, a woman come out the front door and looks at the truck. I point to the old woman, while looking at the lady on the porch and shrug, questioningly. She says, “What’s this?” I tell her that she was down the street. Now, the lady is walking towards the gate, as the Maui shore-eyed old woman steps feebly out of my truck, she turns back and looks at me and says, “I love you Dave Right” before closing the truck door, saying, “just wait a minute”.. and it is all too clear, why she has asked. The woman comes up to the old lady and scornfully begins questioning her, with a demeaning tone, while taking her by the forearm, and leading her in the gate… as the little old lady tells her not to pull her like that..

The bitch… oops… The woman…. looks at me and says “thanks”, as if expecting me to believe she is thankful for anything… (Do you really believe me so blind, that I do not see right through you?) I sat there a moment longer, watching… when the woman, again, turned and repeated her first empty gesture, and there was no mistaking.

I saw no injuries and am hesitant to call the police, though I know she deserves better from her own child. I drive away, reluctantly… with a blown mind at my day…




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