Of grace

Arriving at the Airport on Sunday night, well after the 11pm curfew, I was greeted by a long, snaking queue of weary passengers. Pulling into the last bay I waited as a rank marshal slowly escorted an elderly woman to the cab.

After closing the windows and adjusting the air conditioner to her satisfaction, for the day’s oppressive humidity still lingered, she conveyed heartfelt thanks for the attention.

“That’s just beautiful,” she sighed and closed her eyes to reveal a gratifying smile. It was the same pleasant expression I’d first noticed as she hobbled to the cab, all sweetness and sparkling eyes, signifying one of those joyful souls who genuinely loves life.

For example, at that late hour on a Sunday night many would be aggravated by the heat, frustrated with the delayed flight and long wait for cabs, annoyed watching the 'useless' taxi marshals, blah, blah. Not this girl, she jumped the queue! was a model of grace and positivity.  

"Everyone has been so lovely to me,” she said. “The others let me go to the front of the queue, young people are so wonderful these days.” With that she quietly chuckled, “I guess they pity me.”

She was returning from a weekend visiting family to celebrate her birthday. Just like many young women do every Sunday evening, except this one was aged eighty seven. And still working!

Yet none of those young women in the queue had been forced to flee to the other side of the world as she had, when the Communists invaded Hungary in 1956. She was 32 and just married.

I asked, “Why did you come here rather than go to America?“ “Yes, we could have gone to either country,” she explained, “but we choose to come here. It was much further away from the Communists. But I have no regrets, whatsoever. Australia is such a wonderful country.”

Despite appearing physically frail and shrunken, tiny in the seat beside me, she continually surprised with her zest for life. How she operated a suburban store selling fabrics and soft furnishings, and being a partner in a small business manufacturing these goods.

Even more impressive was her working knowledge of computers, from regularly using email, transmitting images, being a competent Google searcher and Web browser. Rather than shun or bypass modern life she had embraced it with gusto.

So it was little surprise to hear she also drove to work each day. "I've just renewed my license," she proudly stated, referring to the mandatory medical test senior drivers must undergo.

Arriving at her Eastern Suburbs apartment around midnight I remarked that rain was forecast for the following day, perfect weather to stay in bed and recover from her big weekend.

She laughed, “No, I’m working. I’d be bored staying in bed all day, that would be the end of me. Too many of my friends fade away from doing nothing. No, no, darling, working keeps you alive and young.”

That’s the Secret, right there.

After carrying her bag in to the escalator she thanked me and once again marvelled how people are so wonderful that surely they must pity her. So this time I corrected her, “No, no, darling. 'Pity' is without respect and no one could disrespect you.”

Maybe she was just being modest.

Comments

[Romany]

Another uplifting blog, thanks Adrian. "Pity is without respect" - must remember that wise remark next time I'm feeling sorry for myself.

[MikeFitz]

Thanks for introducing us to the nice people as well, Adrian. I really enjoyed that.

My wife's step-father also escaped from Hungary in 1956. Sadly, his best mate was shot in the back as they escaped. But my step-father-in-law has packed in enough living for two. He's still pretty sharp, has taken to computers like a duck to water and might even recognise himself from this comment. :)

About 20 years ago, he was given "a few years to live". He eased up a only a little. When he could no longer manhandle his boat, he gave it away to a mate who is a good fisherman in exchange for a lifetime's supply of fish. It's been a pretty sweet deal so far.

[Peter Deane]

Adrian, she's 87, no? At age over 85, she not only needs to pass a MEDICAL to renew her licence, but needs to do a PRACTICAL DRIVING TEST every second year (ie at age 85, 87, 89, etc)! This is even more impressive!

[adrian]

Thanks, Romany and MikeFitz. Yes, I'm always on the lookout for some balance as the reports are often dominated by the darker side of life. Nice anecdote on your step-father, too, Mike. Sounds like a smart operator.
Peter, that's exactly right, an added achievement I overlooked. Thanks.

[Craig]

"Adrian, she's 87, no?"

What is it with people ending questions with the word "no" these days? Makes me sick.

[Peter Deane]

> What is it with people ending questions with the word "no" these days? Makes me sick

Makes you sick?? No!

I wonder how many of us would pass a practical driving test at the moment if it were foisted upon us every couple of years? Actually that's probably something that SHOULD happen, no?

[adrian]

Hey Craig, I myself have actually, you know, been known to use that particular grammatical affectation...and I'm not even French!

But point taken and will be more careful in future, eh.

[Rainer the cabbie]

Craig
A bit pedantic of you, yes?

[Peter Deane]

Thanks Craig for my blog topic for today, anyway! See: http://bustopher.blogspot.com/2009/12/turn-of-phrase-no.html