Maybe the Olympic Games have me thinking about this: as a decent person, you help others throughout your life, not even realizing that you are keeping an eye out for them. Now it is time for me — and probably for Snoop Dogg, too — to pass that torch along.
The other day I tried to lift bags of groceries into my trunk, a chore I have done for, oh, seven decades. Now my hip flexors shriek while back muscles add their ill-spirited chorus. From nowhere, a young man appeared to load my bags of potting soil. He was not a store employee — just a guy who could share a minute of his time. I nearly blubbered. He was nonplussed with my overwhelming gratitude and shyly said, “It’s just my nature, ma’am.” Then he escaped, probably afraid I’d try to adopt him.
Sis, recovering nicely from a heart procedure, was watering the bushes. Our renter leapt out of the house like a gazelle and snatched the hose away. I mean permanently; he now does all the watering. I am trying to figure out how to get him to do all the vacuuming, too (please send your ideas to myerslindab@gmail.com).
The thing is that I didn’t know I was starting to project need. I’m now aware how often I betray myself with a bit of a limp, a groan when standing up, a sag to a shoulder. But people are watching. They seem to care even though I am not wearing a “Be Kind” button and may attack like a rabid dog.
I’ve started to keep an eye out for the people keeping an eye out for me. They’re as easy to spot as the deer in your yard these days. I have two friends (Beth and Dmitri) each of whom now invades my territorial imperative. Both walk closer than they did. I figure they fear I will step off a curb and perform a gymnastic routine that Simone Biles has yet to try.
Neighbor Christie leaves a jar of her home-raised berries on our doorstep to find when we enter or leave the house. She doesn’t knock, knowing it means Sis or I need to battle down the stairs past two crazed dogs.
I’ve always been the driver, and now some folks ask if I would like a ride; is my driving ability terrifying Clallam County? Should I perhaps have an eye test?
Yes, humans can be a nasty ball of snakes. Just watch the news. Or go to a sporting event. But time and time again, I am amazed how often, when they say you are in their thoughts, you actually are.
Linda B. Myers is a founding member of Olympic Peninsula Authors. Contact her at myerslindab@gmail.com. Look for “What Little I Know Now,” a collection of Linda’s Sequim Gazette articles. Find it on Amazon, wherever the Rain Shadow Artisans market is appearing, and at Pacific Mist Bookstore.
