How humiliating! I had to hold my husband’s hand as we walked to the car this morning. Now we’ve been married and I have held my dear husband’s hand for 63 years with pleasure, many miles I’m sure and enjoyed each mile of it, but that was when I didn’t have to hold his hand. I assure you there is a vast difference in holding hands and in having to hold hands.
Situation was this: My eighty-six year old husband, Sammy, and I went out to eat breakfast at the Mason Lodge Fundraiser for the Senior Center. The following is reason for my agitation.
- We went in separate vehicles. I didn’t care about where he parked because he is fit as a fiddle and runs most anywhere he goes.
- I did care about where I parked. Had to go to the back forty to find a place. I got out of the car, couldn’t even see the entrance door so I looked at my cane over in the passenger seat. Looked for the entrance again. It hadn’t moved any closer. Looked at the cane in the passenger seat again. Could I manage without it? Which is preferable: to waddle with a cane, or to double-waddle without it?
- I remind myself I’m at a fundraiser for Senior Citizens. Surely others will have canes. My “without-cane” waddle is pretty bad and besides I might fall. I take the cane.
- Yes, there were others with canes. That made it worse. They were all old people with canes and waddles, some even had a waddling canes! What if younger people saw me with them! My hair is not gray. Maybe they would think I was post accident not pre accident. If I had borrowed Sammy’s workout jacket, they might think I had just stretched a muscle.
- I ditched the cane on the back of a chair as soon as I found an empty one. It was much more age appropriate for me to hang onto the back of all the chairs as I waddled to the food line.
- I believe holding a full plate of biscuits, gravy, eggs, hash-browns, pancake, and sausage strengthened me. Fortified by the outlook of food and with the determination that I was not going to drop that plate, I was able to walk slowly and gracefully back to the chair where my cane waited unused. At least I walked slowly and steadily—didn’t want to jiggle my food together.
- Friends sat with us. Good food. Good visiting. I only asked Sammy to go for one refill of gravy for me. He hopped right up, got a bowl of gravy for me. I shared it with him and a friend. Others might not have noticed that he was getting the gravy for me.
- Finally it is bye-bye, time to go. After friends left, I retrieved the cane and headed down the aisle. With cane in my right hand, Sammy took my left. We both tried to ignore the cane. Before we left, a friend gave me a gift of a candle. Sweet of her but I didn’t have a third hand! Sammy had two hands – one free of me so he carried the candle in it. He went to my car with me—he walked, I waddled, but I was able to keep my cane from waddling.
True to our sixty-three years together, he assured himself that I was safely in the car, kissed me bye, and dashed back to his vehicle. I surely must have done something right. I made no mistake when I fluttered my eyelashes at him when I was eighteen.