Rainy Day

Cold rain outside the dining room windows. At breakfast Ben put down his tea mug and said, “A good day for sleeping. I’m going upstairs and take a nap.”

I held my finger on button to hold the door open for Rosie, gray and stooped shouldered, to push her walker into the elevator. As the heavy metal door slid shut, closing out the rain, she said, “I’m glad I don’t have to stand on the corner waiting for a bus in this rain. I hated going to work on cold, rainy days like this.”

I said, “What I like about not working is not having to put on pantyhose every morning.”

The elevator stopped at the third floor. The door opened. Rosie pushed out with her walker, and I followed. She turned left, and I turned right.

As I put my key into the lock at my own apartment, I thought, for the 10,000th time, “There are advantages being retired and even for growing old.”

I hear young people say, “I never want to retire. I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t go to work.” Poor souls! They must be defective in imagination. After I quit making money, I was so busy I wondered how I ever had time to work! What good times I’ve had! Even now, when I spend half my days in dialysis and can not travel any further than Fort Worth, I am never bored, never lack things to do.

I don’t know about Rosie’s former life. She is old and handicapped and takes small, painful steps with the use of a walker. Yet she finds life better than standing in the rain waiting for a city bus to take her to some dull job.

Ben, on the other hand, had a fascinating career as an engineer which took him all over the World. He worked in Iraq. We’ve talked about the Netherlands and Germany and trips to the Far East. A massive stroke left him paralyzed on the right side. He had to learn to walk and talk again. He still walks with a cane. His speech is slow and deliberate, but his remarks are witty and pertinent. He also learned not to bother with petty stuff. Not for him to go to a boring exercise class when he could enjoy the pleasure of a morning nap.

Like a good girl, I went to exercise with the other old ladies. Then I came back to the apartment, thinking I would sit in my recliner and read for ten minutes then get to work on my income tax.

My cat Charlie climbed on my lap. I put down my book and said, “Charlie, I need to go to work.” I gave him a little push, but the heavy cat was like a load of laundry on my stomach. Charlie curled up and started to purr.

“Oh, well, why not relax for a few minutes?”

I woke up an hour later. A perfect way to spend a rainy day.