Crossing a road recently, I spotted a man paused in the middle of the road with both his arms outstretched. For a second, I frowned, and then looking back, I saw that the man was pausing traffic for an elderly lady.

As I reached the other side realizing I’d walked straight past the elderly woman without noticing her, intuition kicked in and I wanted to help. I exchanged a silent nod and smile with the man and outstretching my arm, I took hold of Reny’s hand. She held me with both hands, very firmly. “Good afternoon. Where are you going today?” I asked her.

Irene, known to her friends as Reny—the same nickname that my grandmother had—must be at least 85 years old, I guessed. She was well-dressed, but very frail.

As we walked together, Reny seemed incredibly anxious and told me she was trying to remember something that she needed to get for her son. “I think it’s milk-based, but I’m just not sure. I just cannot remember. He’ll be so angry,” she said. So we went to the local supermarket together and I postponed my meeting.

Reny explained how her son swears at her a lot and so she was going back to the supermarket for the second time that day to try and remember what the milk-based product was that she needed for making cakes. She couldn’t remember. We went through every possibility.

Reny told me that she is one of four children and has lived in Surrey in the UK for 40 years. She had three brothers. “They were all into physics and science and stuff,” she said. She moved to Surrey from Glasgow because of her father’s job. She can’t remember what it was.

She has one replaced hip, but her other is in agony and so she shuffles rather than walks. I consider myself a mindful person, but it was actually challenging to walk at Reny’s pace. We picked up some milk and paracetamol. She is diabetic, but enjoys cake a lot. Her favorite is the hot crossed bun. She knew a lot about cakes. She said her son enjoys calling her names when she eats things that are “bad.”

She studied medicine and found it pretty easy. Reny told me she got a medal once. She can’t remember what it was for, but “it must have been important,” she said laughing.

“I learned all the things about anatomy and seemed to get all the top grades. Somehow. My brothers said I’d never do well, but it turned out I was pretty good at it.”

As we walked over to put the trolley back, a lady in an expensive red coat took the handle and said, “Excuse me.” abruptly, before tut-tutting loudly as Reny struggled to turn around. The lady in the red coat didn’t even acknowledge I existed.

Reny and I continued to joke about bones as we walked to the bus stop together. As I stopped the bus for her and helped her on, two women bowed their heads (shame) and looked out of the window when she stumbled. Two ladies gave up a seat, but not a single person put out a hand to help Reny sit down, and so she fell into her chair. With a deep sigh, she said aloud, “Oh wow! She found me a seat.”

“Gosh, I’m tired now. My legs hurt. Thank you,” she said.

I thanked Reny for the wonderful hour that we’d spent together and held her hands tightly to say goodbye. As I got off the bus, I felt humbled, grateful and present. I noticed how fast everything else was moving around me and stood hopeful that someone else outstretches their arms to her.

 

Author: Kate Andrews

Editor: Evan Yerburgh

Image: Flickr