Parking Space

Coming home after dinner with a friend, I drive around to the back of the apartment complex and start looking for a parking space. I try to park close to the covered walkway, so if it rains the next time I come out I won’t soaked getting to my car. There is an open space, but it has a little sign, “reserved for apartment 145.” The first floor apartment has a patio gate which opens directly onto the parking lot. I have never seen a car parked in that reserved space.

I walk into the building. The night is beautiful; I do not get wet. As I wait for the elevator, the occupant of 145 comes out the front of her apartment and turns, leaning on her walker, to close the door. I know her. She is short, solidly-built, with a round face, round glasses, dark eyes, and, unlike most old, gray-haired ladies, her short, straight hair is surprisingly dark with only a few gray hairs to indicate the black locks are natural. She looks healthy, but I’ve seen a nurse knocking on her door. Often I follow her into the dining room. We walk slowly, as she leans on her walker as she puts each step forward carefully.

I ask, “Louise, do you have a car?”
She: “Oh no.” She glanced down at her walker.
Me: “You keep the space reserved for a car.”
She: “My daughter comes some times. I need room to get out with my walker. Twice an ambulance had to come for me.”
Me: “I understand.”

It would be impossible for her to navigate with her walker between parked cars. How much easier to bring a stretcher out the patio door and through the empty parking space than to use the front door and struggle around the corners of the building and the covered walkway.

How often I’ve complained about someone doing something that seems selfish or unfair. Maybe I just did not know the reason behind the other person’s actions.

With her dependence on the walker and other health problems, Louise needs that open space behind her apartment. It seldom rains in Texas. It will do me good to get a little exercise walking across the parking lot. Thank God! I do not need to use a walker.

If a little rain falls on my head, I won’t care. I am washable.