The traffic wasn’t heavy, but the intersection is dangerous, and pedestrians as well as vehicles are wise to pay attention. I slowed to a stop at the red light, and watched her set foot into the street.
I put her at late 70s or possibly 80s, though as she pushed her walker at a surprising clip I wondered if my estimate was off. I was thrown by her speed not only due to the walker, but the severe bend in her body and a lamentably large dowager’s hump, her form suggesting the letter C.
Yet as she passed in front of me, my impression changed. Once, I’m certain, she was very beautiful.
Had she assumed, as we all do when we’re young, that growing older would never touch her, and if it did, its traces would be gentle?
Echoes of Beauty
I can still see her in my mind’s eye: her purple blouse fluttered in the breeze, black shorts to the knee fit snugly like active wear, and white walking shoes were no different than my own. Her calves and arms were muscular though her frame was thin. And her hair was dyed a soft blonde and cut into something of a pageboy. She wore no glasses, and her nose was long and fine.
I could imagine her 20 years earlier, and 20 years before that. What sort of life had she led? Had she left a string of broken hearts? Had she piloted a private plane when women were lucky to work a teaching job? Had she started a company, exhibited paintings in a museum, raised a half dozen children to adulthood and gone on to other pursuits after that?
What reward and anguish had her beauty wrought – at 30 or 40, at 50 or 60? Did it help her? Did it hold her back? As her physical glory faded, did she let it go with the kind of grace so many of us admire?
She made her way across four lanes to the other curb, and a green light required that I drive on.
Straightening Up
Unable to chase her image away, as I drove from market to bookstore I continued to wonder. Had she hunched over a desktop for years, as I hunch too many hours over my laptop? As a girl in the 1940s or 50s, had her mother insisted she balance books on her head to master poise and perfect posture? At what point was she aware that she could no longer straighten up?
As I finished my errands, I stopped to jot down notes and linger over a cup of coffee. I wanted to feel where I am and who I am – right here, right now – however in-between, and in my own way at an intersection: This is the stage of life when we say goodbye to our most satiny skin, to select ambitions, to our children as they grow into lives of their own; this is the time in life when we’re welcoming our confidence, recognizing what gives us comfort, crafting new goals in place of the old.
For myself, I recognize the importance of persisting in questions, my belief in dreaming, and increasing clarity when it comes to imposing “no” in order to maximize life’s “yes.”
Seeing Ourselves Through the Wider Lens
As serendipity would have it, last evening I was going through boxes and stumbled onto a pair of photographs I hadn’t seen in a dozen years. They show a family smiling brightly for the camera, including myself and my ex-husband.
Studying my face, I realize how little I knew at the time, how resolutely I denied the facts of my marriage, how naturally it came to me to shoulder all responsibility for whatever was going awry. I was wrongly convinced that I could somehow make it “right.”
And then I picture the old woman and the power in her stride, enjoying the sunshine while braving each intersection. I picture myself 20 years from now or possibly 30 and hope time will be kind. I imagine myself with pen in hand, or keyboard nearby, still stubbornly, painfully, blissfully engaged in writing.
Late to my routine, I settle into my usual spot. I ignore the stack of bills, the deck that needs sweeping, the clutter by the kitchen sink. I begin my writing and editing, making a conscious effort to straighten my spine, lift my chin, relax my shoulders, and breathe deeply. I am aware of my age and contentedly so – knowing my good fortune, feeling at peace, and appreciating my strength.
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This post just made me sit up straight 😉
Me too, Supermodel! A pretty important reminder!
This was lovely reading. And yes, I do sit up ramrod straight most of the time. 🙂
Thank you for the good words, Cornelia. (And let’s hear it for good posture – not to mention good sources of calcium to fight bone loss.)
The shape that you see in her back is most often, in women, caused by anterior wedging of her vertebrae, as she loses bone mass and structural strength vertically. So it’s very gradual, and it’s not postural, or related in any way to her passive activity preferences like reading or writing too much of her time, except in so far as physical exercise helps prevent bone loss.
She sounds lovely – a child of the Depression, do you think? Interesting that she was wearing shorts – not many ladies of her age here in Australia would wear shorts outside of gardening etc.
Working as I do in health, your lady and her contemporaries are my constant companions, and I love them. Such a wealth of knowledge, experience, and often compassion, gleaned over many years of good and bad times. In spite of their presenting complaints, which is why they’ve come through my door, as one man put it with a twinkle in his eye as he shuffled off, ‘Wouldn’t be dead for quids!’
I love this piece, Wolf. A reminder that we all have our stories of where we come from and where we are going.
Wolf, when I read your work in succession, I am always amazed at the depth and range of all of your topics. You continue to inspire. Thank you.
I found this idea of intersection very poignant… it’s a time of change, not only in our bodies but in the way we learn to see ourselves and accept our physical changes. On the other hand I love this new found freedom to do and be as we want… mentally it’s stimulating and confidence sure is one powerful drug…
A beautiful piece… xv
This is how I often look at older women, wondering about their stories, about what I might learn from them. I was wondering about osteoporosis, started looking for how to spell this! and found
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xRDbr9wCB_Y
and
http://www.naturalposturesolutions.com/about/articles/5-steps-to-pain-free-comfortable-aging/
Not as romantic as your thought processes, but interesting nonetheless.
Lovely post. It reminded me of a woman I saw at an outdoor restaurant on Cape Cod. She also could have been late seventies or eighty, paper thin, but not frail. Her white hair was swept back from her face showing her delicate features. She was simply dressed in Cape Cod summer fashion and her face showed a few lines that hinted at summers in the sun. But she was beautiful. I had just retired and was worried about the future. Her presence firmed my resolve to age as gracefully as the fates will allow.
How beautiful, Kris. Thank you for sharing this experience, and a similar sense of resolve and acceptance.
What a gorgeously touching piece. Your description of this woman embodies everything I love about the female species. Our grace, our strength, and our determination. I also love your commitment to writing above all things. You will be the woman still pursuing your passion with a soul that does not age.
Oh Donna, What a kind remark. Thank you! And I agree – we’re capable of great grace and spirit.
I have to say that the end of your writing brought tears to my eyes because I can imagine you so clearly in your advanced years, still writing away and making a difference to people like me. Thank you for all you do, for the hundredth time, dear D.
Not all of us feel fabulous about where we are going, or have confidence while stepping out into the intersection but you do help those of us remember it is an option. Merci.
As has been said, you’ve conveyed some warm, encouraging and beautiful thoughts. Although when you were describing the woman in the intersection, I was saddened to read “Once, I’m certain, she was very beautiful.” Of course, I know what you meant but it’s unfortunate that we – the world – don’t have a broader sense of the concept of beauty. We’ll have to work on that. Thanks.
Maryl, you raise a great point, one I thought about before I hit publish. I imagined she was beautiful inside as well – but then it felt inauthentic to make that assumption as I had only her exterior and her stride to form impressions. It has been my experience – (no doubt others have similar) – that some who are physically beautiful are not on the inside, and we all know those who are radiant from the inside out.
I have been wondering if I will see her again and what impressions I’ll have at that time.