Member-only story
There are a few things I do really well. One of them is chili. There’s something to put on my tombstone.
February 2, 2024
Groundhog’s Day.
I’m doing laundry this evening. Ya, another No Date Friday. But there was Betty from two doors down in the laundry room. She’s 90. We started to talk, well she started to talk in her soft sing song voice, so pleasant to hear. She exudes kindness and caring.
She showed me the empty washers and explained how Jim from third floor had wiped them out for her.
“Jim is so nice. He’s been so kind to me. People are so nice here,” she said.
She walked me over to the food pantry in the common room. She has macular degeneration, so she was holding the cans very close to her face and was still not able to read the labels.
“Is there any chili? I love chili. And I love pancakes. Look! I found pancake mix. But I like Krusteaz the best.”
“Nope, there’s no chili. But I have some. I’ll bring it by your apartment.”
We rode back up to the fourth floor together, she with her walker, and me pushing my laundry cart. Two little old ladies. Only I’m 60, she’s 90. She’s lived a third longer than I have. Wow. I wonder how long I’ll live. I don’t know about 90. It doesn’t look fun. But…
