A New Year

I had a picture post running through my head all weekend. With the photos I took on Friday, I thought it would be fun to play "guess what this is." But when I went to upload them, poof! They were gone. Someone tried out different settings on my camera, taking random pictures. When he was finished, he thoughtfully deleted them along with the ones I'd taken.

So I'll go in another direction.

Last week, as I pushed my grocery cart towards the car, I noticed my legs felt a bit weak. This is what happens when you finally drag your tired body to the gym when you haven't worked out in over a month. Parked next to me was an elderly gentleman. He was standing at the back of his car, knocking on the window. I surmised he was trying to get his wife to open the trunk so he could load his groceries.

As I packed my grocery sacks into my trunk, I noticed this man fumbling with his in the back seat. He struggled with the heavy bags & stopped to catch his breath with each one. Closing the trunk, I paused before returning the cart. I wanted to help, but I'm often afraid of offending an older man. Men from his generation are men. They've spent a lifetime opening car doors, lifting heavy objects, & openening tightly sealed jars for their female counterparts. Would he feel humilation at a lady offering to help him?

I pushed my empty cart. When I felt the twinge of sore muscles, I silently thanked God for my health and strength. When I returned, the gentleman was still wrestling. "Sir, may I help you load these things?" I was grateful, when he stepped aside, leaning against his car to catch his breath. From the front seat, his wife turned to thank me. Her voice trembled as she told me how she was too weak to help and that her husband had difficulty lifting heavy things.

I wondered why nobody had helped this man with his groceries. The sackers were always offering to carry my groceries to the car. Had no one offered? Or had the man clung to his last bit of dignity, declined the offer, and tried to manage on his own? I wanted to follow this couple to their home. Afterall, how in the world were they going to unload these bags and put the food away? Was there no one to help?

People from this generation have lived very different lives. Possibly they could afford to pay to have their groceries delivered. But that would seem way too extravagant. Maybe they truly can't afford to pay for help. But asking for assistance from a volunteer is too much like an admission that their strength & independence is diminished.

The rest of the day I spent wondering how this couple managed upon arriving home. But even more so, what will I do if I am elderly and in need of assistance. Will I lay aside my pride to ask for help? Will the finances to be there if needed? Or will I just do it regardless of my ability? If my extended family members are any indication of my own ideas and attitudes it will be the latter. More on that later.