I was sitting in a doctor’s waiting room again last week (I feel like I do that more often than I want recently!) when I heard someone say something that really made me think about life. It has stayed with me, and I can’t shake how it made me feel.
Let me say that I understand there is a pandemic. Let me say that I am vaccinated and boosted- I really don’t understand if you aren’t but I have to let that confusion go. I understand that with so many unvaccinated people that this isn’t going to end soon. I know that we have to protect the elderly, children and the sickly. I know if the hospitals are full of unvaccinated COVID patients then if any of us are in a wreck or have a medical emergency, then we could have issues getting treated. I get all of this.
As I sat in the waiting room, wearing my mask and letting my eyes dilate, an elderly woman (yes- even older than me!) came out to the waiting room. As she got ready to leave, she stopped at the front desk to tell the receptionist goodbye.
The voice from behind the glass said, “Take care and stay warm and well!” The lady stopped and said, “Oh, I am! We don’t go anywhere unless it is a doctor’s appointment. We order in groceries and never leave the house. We are staying healthy!” And with that she left.
My first reaction was that this very thin, seemingly very old woman was doing what she has to do to take care of herself and whoever she lives with. I know nothing of her circumstances, so who am I to judge?
Then I thought, she is out on her own seeing the eye doctor, walking unaided and carrying on a brisk, coherent conversation. On further inspection, maybe she isn’t as old as she first seemed. I still don’t know her circumstances, none of my business!
I thought back to the trip Tim and I just came back from. It was a very odd trip, which I guess now is the norm, but this was exceptionally weird.
We went to Eureka Springs, Arkansas, a quirky little town that I had visited a couple of times as a child. Since “visiting” a town with my family back then always left me wanting to explore more (we usually rode through quickly and at odd hours) I have always wanted to go back.
We stayed in a haunted hotel that was hard to get to when we arrived in the middle of the night. The GPS wanted us to get there by way of a gravel road straight up a cliff, this stressful beginning to our vacation made me nervous and dubious.
We finally made our way to the hotel, although it took two more options from the GPS to get us there intact. Once there, issues with the hotel, not the greatest weather and the ever present and everchanging protocols and concerns had me wondering if I ever wanted to leave home again.
Coming back home to the contradiction of my life which includes reinstated mask mandates at our church, cancelled plans due to friends with positive tests yet starting a new rehearsal process for a show I am directing, I have stayed tense, busy and confused.
And then the tiny little woman at the eye doctor’s office shared that she was taking care of herself by staying home all of the time. And I realized that as much of an introvert and homebody as I am, I cannot do that. Not if I want to stay married. Not if I want to stay sane.
As I get older and have things like back surgery and worsening cataracts, I have begun to feel old. I wondered when that would happen. Oh, I have joked about being old for years, but didn’t really feel it. Now, having to ask for help when things are too heavy, rethinking getting on ladder, (things I used to do regularly) or deciding not to do something out of concern or fear that I used to do with no thought at all, makes me feel old.
After thinking the little lady in the waiting room was smart, I then honestly thought, but what are you saving your life and health for if you are miserable, stuck at home and not doing the things you love? Again, I don’t know her- she might be perfectly content at home. But me- what about my life?
I am not really a “people person” like my husband, but I do like creating theatre with talented people who can drive me nuts, but also entertain and inspire me. I like to dress up and have a nice meal out with my friends. I like movie theatre popcorn and a flick on the big screen. I want to see more of the world, or at least for now, more of this country.
As I start to feel old, I realize I have been home too much, given up on too much. If I stay home and safe, what am I saving myself for? If I never go out, what is the point?
I often used to see that older people were the ones who saved their money and were more scared of things, even though they had fewer years left. Younger folks, who probably have years ahead of them, have more things to experience and more life to live, will spend their money and take more chances in life. When you really think about it, isn’t that the opposite of what makes sense?
Who knows how long I have left!? And haven’t I had a rich, full life?? So, what if I take a chance? What if I put myself out there? What am I saving this old, wearing out body for? What good am I to myself or anyone else if I just languish at home, staying healthy and safe, yet not creating anything of worth or doing anything of note?
I have no plan to run wild in the street, or not get checkups or refuse to take care of myself and others. I can’t see myself not wearing my seatbelt or putting myself in dangerous situations. But I also can’t see bubble wrapping myself and staying in a chair in my den until the end comes.
So, if you see me moving something heavy, please come help me. Or get out of my way! If you see me on a ladder, come hold it so I don’t crash. Or just walk on by if you prefer. If you see us pull out of our driveway in our worn-out truck, headed to a haunted hotel on the edge of a cliff, you can shake your head and comment on the state of our mental health if you want. I don’t care.
I think I have to remember the quote I have on my wall- “Life is either a great adventure or nothing.” Helen Keller said that, and she had every reason in the world to do nothing. She chose to do something.
Another sign I have on my wall says, “When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would have not a single bit of talent left and could say, ‘I used everything you gave me.'” That one is from Erma Bombeck.
Someone I knew once told me about the death of one of their relatives and what they said has stuck with me for years. They said, “she really lived until she died.” I hope that someone can say that about me someday.
