If the term,
“hell on wheels” could be exemplified in a human form, I think it would be this
lady. She was probably in her early 80’s; barely five feet tall and maybe
weighed 100 pounds soaking wet. Her face and hands told a story that perhaps
she’s had a hard life. The wrinkles around her eyes when she smiled also told
of a woman who wasn’t a stranger to happiness.
I don’t know her name. I probably never will.
I had
stopped to get a cup of coffee (I take mine black, like my soul) before my
shift started at my second job. I had about 30 minutes to kill so I sat down in
the back of the shop just to think and clear my head.
“Do you love
him, honey?” she said as she plopped down at the empty chair at my table.
She had
startled the crap outta me.
“Pardon?”
was all I could manage.
“Honey, it’s
a simple yes or no question. Do you love him?”
I had to
have looked at this women like she had completely lost her mind because let’s
be honest, I thought she may have been off her meds.
“I guess I
don’t understand the question.” I said.
“I’ve been
watching you since you walked in here.” She countered, “I’ve seen that look
before. I’ve worn that look before. There are two looks on a woman’s face that
only a man can be responsible for: a smile bigger than a Buick and this
furrowed eye brow thing you’ve got going on here. If you don’t love him, you at
least care a whole lot about him. People that we don’t care about don’t possess
that kind of power over us.”
This is the
second time in two weeks that I have encountered Ghandi reincarnated as an
elderly woman rocking a four-wheeled walker.
I am now
just resigned to the fact that I am also going to meet eccentric people in eccentric
places that say eccentric things and that’s just how it’s gonna be.
She just
stared at me with her arms crossed, as if to dare me not to answer her.
“I guess I
don’t know how I feel” was all I replied because quite honestly, this was a
complete stranger.
“My advice
to you, young lady, is to talk to him. What ever he did, whatever you did, communication is what is going to make
or break you. You've got to communicate. Without put downs, without yelling. Back and forth conversation. Maybe this man will be in
your life forever; maybe just a short time. Maybe he is just an adventure.
Maybe a lesson. If you think there is a chance that he might be worth it,
you have got to fight like hell. If not walk away right now and smile for what it
was. But, honey, trust me, you are
solving absolutely nothing by glaring at that coffee. Remember that.”
Quickly
changing the subject, because, frankly, that’s a whole lot to process. I asked
her about her family. She told me about her kids and grandkids. She told me
about her late husband. All with this happiness that even now I can’t really
put in to words.
She asked about my family. I gave her the
simplified version. Not wanting to be one of those people that just talks about
themselves. I tried to ask more about her but she would have none of that. She
insisted that I tell her more about my family. I toId her that my mom and dad
are probably my two favorite people ever. I shared with her that my greatest
fear on this earth would be to disappoint either of them. That I hope they will
always be proud of me and that they respect my decisions even if they don’t always
understand them.
She reached
across the table and grabbed my hand and said, “Oh, honey, daddy’s aren’t
supposed to like the men we choose. It’s their job not to.”
Alright,
Teresa Caputo, what the hell is going on?
Unfortunately,
I had to cut this conversation short so I could get to work. I apologized for
having to leave so abruptly and thanked her. She stood and hugged me.
“Honey, you
will figure it out or it will figure itself out,” she shouted as I walked out
the door.
Every path we cross is for a reason.
God bless
that crazy, beautiful, wise woman.