Observations on a summer morning.

I was reading the 'off internet blog' today and found this. It's from this summer when I took my younger sister to swim lessons every morning. I didn't post it before mostly cause I had no profound comments or conclusions about it. It was just something that interested me those morning. It's a little scary. And sad. But there's something beautiful about that person. I don't think I did her justice at all.
God bless her.

~*~
"Where's your car?" Asked the elderly lady sitting quietly in her wheel chair. Her voice is clear. It has little of the crackly quality that so often comes with age. She speaks quickly but in a low unconcerned voice.
"In the parking lot, Jenny." is the reply from the woman sitting on the bench across from her. I assume this is her daughter but find it odd that she should call her by her first name.
"Are you going to push me to the exit door... in the wheel chair?" Jenny questioned further.
"When it's time. It's not time. Watch the kids."
"I will."
She stares through the window between the painted sunflowers that decorate it. On the other side there is a long blue pool with red stripes. There is no one in it. On one side there are benches full of people. They are talking but we can't hear them through the glass. The water ripples do not hold Jenny's attention for long.
"Where's your car?" She asks again.
"Watch the kids, Jenny"
"I will." She's doesn't. She pulls out some chap stick. "Put chap stick on both lips." She says. "Their dry." She laughs. It's a slow low laugh, cut into little pieces; "Yeha-ha-ha Yeha-ha-ha." Then suddenly, "I'm done."
The woman sitting across from her smiles indulgently.
The hall is narrow and long. At the other end there are big windows and doors just out of sight around a corner. Jenny stares at them. A young woman pushing a stroller comes walking towards us. She smiles at Jenny who follows her with two bright eyes.
"Hi." She says with little enthusiasm.
"Hi there, how are you?" The woman says as she sits down. It's politeness; she tends to her baby without waiting for a response.
"Pretty good for an old lady." Jenny laughs again. "Yeha-ha." She stops suddenly. "Chew my gum." She mutters. "Good flavor. Good for me. I'm gonna be eighty on June thirtieth."
At our end of the hall there are two big soda machines. One with Gatorade and one with bottled water. Then a large room opens out with halls branching off it. Jenny sits with her back to these.
"I'm done. Where's your car?"
"It's not time yet. Watch the kids."
The kids are in the pool now. There is much movement; splashes and kicking. The children kick or paddle from the wall to their instructors on little yellow boards or on white foam noodles. We can see them splashing and yelling but we can't hear anything. The hall is quiet except for a few toddlers (too young to swim) who run their little cars along the floor. Sometimes they go to the window and peer through making little incomprehensible squeals of recognition and pointing. Their mothers nod and softly assure them; "You can see big brother in there, can't you."
"Are you gonna push me to the exit? In the wheel chair?"
"It's not time yet."
"When it's time?"
"Yes, Jenny. I wont leave you here. Watch the kids."
"I will." She doesn't. "Chew my gum." She looks over at her friend. "Did you give me my gum?"
"Yes."
"Good for me. Yeha-ha-ha. I'm happy to be with you today."
"I'm happy to be with you, Jenny. Watch the kids, Jenny. They're about to jump into the pool."
We see the splash through the window. We don't hear anything. Jenny laughs loud and high this time and fast. "Hahaha hahaha."
The hall is lined with one long bench. I sit on one end and all the mothers and Jenny's friend sit along it. Jenny sits in her wheel chair by the window. She stares between the pain on the glass. The pool is busy with movement but we can't hear the noise. It's cool in the hall but we can see that the pool room is hot.
"Put chap stick on bother lips. They're dry." She is restless in her chair.
"Jenny, sit still and watch the kids." Her friend spoke more severely. Almost impatient. Jenny turned back to the pool window.
"I will." She mutters about her chap stick again and laughs.
"You crazy hot lips." Her friend smiles tenderly.
"Crazy with love for you... Yeha-ha-ha."
"Watch the kids."
"I will."
The kids are getting out of the pool. My sister comes around the corner with the big windows looking out on the parking lot. I gather my books. I walk past all the people sitting on the bench and the lady in the chair by the window.
"Are you gonna push me to the exit doors... in the wheel chair."
"It's almost time, Jenny."