Little Old Lady

Once in a while you meet someone who creates an impression, makes a mark.

Little Old Lady did that tonight. She was my last 'drop' out of a full load of 10 that I had.

I got there early, I'm just so...cough...efficient. I phoned to see if it was OK to deliver. I'd been before and it had been the middle aged son who took the delivery; hence the late hour. It was engaged. Tried a couple more times; the same so I went to the door of the old people's home and pressed the buzzer.

Whoosh.....the doors immediately swung open without anyone answering to see who it was....strange!

I blocked the door with a chair, unloaded the boxes onto my trolley and then negotiated the corridors and lift to get to the flat. At the door I could hear a TV and pressed the buzzer. I thought I heard a child so I pressed again.

'Come in' it was the 'child' who, in fact, was Little Old Lady. Far from having a thin reedy voice she had what sounded very like a five-year old's. I wheeled my trolley in, something we only do if we are allotted extra time to customers who are infirm, for instance.

And there she was in her lounge. Little Old Lady. She looked like an ancient Pixie. A sort of benign mischief and exuberance shone from her face. In front of her she had her Zimmer Frame and around her what seemed like a small pharmacy. Her body was like a crumpled old rag doll. Her face seemed incongruous amongst everything else.

Normally, when we deliver to old, infirm people we are given extra time so we can deposit the stuff in the kitchen. At all other times we stay at the door.

'It's just around the corner' answering my question as to where the light switch was.

I pulled a cord.....oops....it was the alarm for the nurse..........I pressed a switch. A strange whirring sound sprang up; some kind of air conditioning for people with lung problems I think....................serious oops now. Third time lucky I found the light switch.

Meanwhile, Little Old Lady had picked her crumpled body out of her chair and motored with eery speed over to the intercom to head off the nurse.

'They just sit around downstairs at this time of night so it'll give them something to do' she giggled.

I unloaded everything while she chattered happily and explained that her son would be back shortly to put it all away.

I asked about her husband. I knew he was in hospital from my last visit.

'Oh. he's dying' came her matter of fact answer. It wasn't said with that pause that people normally use when saying something they know will garner sympathy. She said it as though he were in the toilet...........with just a hint of emotion in her manner. Enough to let me know her concern. Not enough to force me into a reaction.

'I'll put the chilled and frozen things in the fridge and freezer', I said.

'Oh, you don't have to'

'I know I don't, but I want to'

And I did. I had the time and here was a decrepit old woman, kept alive by modern medicine and separated from her husband. Who knows, maybe she'd never see him again. Or of she did only for short visits in the hospital.

Yet her face was alive with life. She smiled and made every effort to make me welcome. She apologised for the gaff with the cord and was very appreciative of my tiny bit extra customer service.

In short, she was a pleasure to be around.

Yes. I'll remember Little Old lady.