The Treasure Hunt

Sunday August 12, 2012 6:53 pm

Today, a little before lunch time an elderly lady stopped beside the desk in my department. I am guessing that she was somewhere in her late 80's to early 90's, and she was using a walker. With the tip of her walker she indicated the anti-fatigue mat I was standing on and she asked, "Do women get their high heeled shoes caught in that thing?" (My mat is the type that has a lot of small holes woven throughout.)

I explained that because it is behind my counter that customers do not have easy access, and the girl (Dana) who works in our department does not wear heels at work. "No," I finished with, "that usually isn't a problem."

Then she said, "For 31 years when I was young I used to travel all over this country with my daddy. He was a payroll agent for the railroad you know." She continued, "He used to say..." (At this point she deepened her voice and I imagine she was trying to recall and imitate the sound of her father's voice.) 'Now, Honey... don't you quit your job."'

I smiled and said, "Well, that sounds like real good advice your daddy gave you."

At this time an older couple (probably in their mid to late 60's) came up behind her... she had come in with them. My best guess is that they were husband and wife and this elderly lady was mother to one of them. I searched their faces trying to see a resemblance... but I'm not very good at that and it could have been either one. The wife(?) asked me a question about a faucet they had been looking at and I gave her an answer. They returned to look at it again. This entire exchange lasted maybe 15 seconds while the very old lady who was now leaning on her walker had been staring at me.

As soon as they left she leaned in closer toward me and said, "For 31 years when I was young I used to travel all over this country with my daddy. He was a payroll agent for the railroad you know. Then she paused before continuing, "He used to say, 'Now Honey... don't you quit your job."'

I paused for just a minute trying to be certain the words I should use. Then I smiled and said, "Well, that sounds like real good advice your daddy gave you."

She smiled and nodded at me as the couple returned to lead her away. For the next minute or so I watched her back and the small baby-steps she took with her walker, until all three disappeared down another aisle.

I suppose it should have ended there... just a sad case of someone suffering from some form of dementia. But, it is hard for me to not try and think things through and I began to wonder how many countless times she has probably used those same sentences with family members, and even complete strangers?

And I wondered why, if she has forgotten so many other things... "why" were those two thoughts so important? My best guess, though I'll never know for certain, is that she must have had a wonderful time with her father while still a young girl, and 'traveling all over the country with her daddy.'

The reason I think this... is that even when she was older and had a job of her own, she was still mindful of her father's words and advice to not quit her job.

Then, after I had "figured" her out... I internalized her predicament and wondered to myself if I ever lived long enough to develop dementia, what would I keep repeating? Something I had always loved... thought about? Within a second or two I knew what it might be? Then, that is when I always go too far in my mind and I take a stranger's sad illness and I try to find some humor.

Back home, Preacher used to say that he, "... had only one string on his guitar." He was always talking (or thinking) about soul-winning and that is what He meant by only one string... or one continual thought. My next thought was, "Uh-oh!" (What if my "one string" or one thought is something that I keep saying to those around me that I most probably shouldn't?)

Many years ago there was a girl I knew in Parkersburg who was named Tonda Mowry. Until lunch time today I hadn't even thought of her since 1966 or so? I was probably ten or 11 and I used to go to her house and that is where I learned to play Gin rummy, on Tonda's front porch. That long summer instead of playing games to 500 points we would have marathon sessions to 5,000 points. (Hang with me... there is a reason I am telling you this.)

Living beside Tonda was a very old man, and he was blind. Tonda and I would sometimes go to their porch and play cards on their front steps. We mainly played there because his wife would bring tall glasses of sweet tea with ice  for us to drink while we played. (I think she was glad for us to be there because it gave her husband company as he sat in his chair and rocked.) More often than not, after his wife would go inside the old man would begin to cry softly (I guess so his wife wouldn't hear him) and he would ask us to take him away because his wife always beat him once he was alone with her in the house.

Now, Tonda and I had heard him say many things that we absolutely knew were not true: so, we really didn't believe that either. But, here is why I told you that story. If I live into my nineties: become decrepit, senile, and I begin to repeat things that might not be appreciated by everyone... I might become just like that old man. I'll be sitting on my porch and begging the young neighborhood children who come by to take me away because I get beat every time I go back inside!

I am now off to my living room... I have an exercise bike in there and I am going to ride for awhile. Maybe... just maybe... with enough energy drinks consumed and lots of exercise I might be able to keep my mind sharp and I will always be able to filter my thoughts before speaking. I'd hate to take several beatings when I'm close to a hundred and not even understand why it's happening. (lol)