Walk A Little Slower

      I often sit in the same place, the same time, every day. I've been to the spot every day since I was thirty-two. I am now nearing my deathbed. I don't change my routine of this, my children wonder why. I wonder why myself. The wonder disappears when a child comes up to me asking if I need help somewhere, you don't get that too often anymore. People are too busy with their own lives to worry about those who may need help. I remember a few years ago, this little girl gave me her teddy bear; she couldn't have been any older than six. She told me she gave it to me because; “You looked lonely, sittin' there, watchin' everyone else go and you just stayin' there.” I smiled and thanked her. Of course I imparted advise for the next time she wanted to give away a teddy bear; “Not everyone sitting and watch people go are lonely.” I still have that bear if I remember correctly.

        I got off track, forgive me. I'm sitting at a bench in the park, it’s not a pretty park or anything, hardly anyone comes to stay here, they don't see the splendor of it. Nope, not anymore. Now, I'm not a cranky old geezer. I just remember what this used to be. For the first time in a couple of years I was moved from my spot on the bench. This little boy was wandering around, crying his eyes out, and screaming his lungs out for his mom. I figured I'd be nice and help him.

        I stood up and wobbled slightly. I walked slowly over to him and smiled down. His crying stopped as he peered up at me, the sun shining in his eyes making them look like glass due to the tears.

“Do you need any help?” I smiled.

        His mouth kind of fell open and he nodded, he looked awestruck at me. I tried not to laugh at his expression. No matter how old you are, a little kid's expression of amazement will always be one of the best things in the world. They're amazed by everything these kids. I reached my hand down and he took it.

“Where was your mommy last?” I asked.

        He tugged my hand in the opposite direction. We walked slowly; I liked walking with little kids. They aren't in a big rush like everyone else. They know how to take it slow and admire the world. We walked on to Main Street; people were bustling through stores, in and out, in and out. His tiny hand tore out of my grasp and he ran as fast as he could towards a woman. She scooped him up, tears wetting her cheeks. I smiled, walking back to my bench, not waiting for a “thank you” because I didn't need one.

        I sat back in my bench and waited, like I did every day. My family would come to get me, so I wouldn't “catch my death” though, you can't catch death.

“Grandma!” I heard a small child scream and then barrel into my lap. She was my granddaughter, she was the cutest thing ever, her two front teeth were missing, her pigtails were high and curly, her smile a mile wide.

“Come on Ma, let’s get you home.” My eldest son beckoned.

        He picked up his daughter and began walking away, too fast already. I stood up at my own pace and began walking quiet a ways away from them. My eldest grandson slowed down to walk with me. He was already a teenager and going through that “I have to look the scariest I can to be cool” though he was the gentlest boy ever.

“Why do you always walk so slow Grandma?” He questioned, I could tell he was joking, he just thought I was too old to walk that fast.

“Why are you asking a rhetorical question? Or at least one you consider rhetorical?” I asked, grinning and picking up the pace.

“Sorry, I was just askin'.” He snapped, walking faster to catch up with the rest of the family.

        My daughter-in-law heard the whole thing and swiftly smacked his shoulder, sending him back to talk to me, because that was some kind of punishment.

“I'm-”

“Don't. It shouldn't be a punishment talking to me, or apologizing to me. Just smile and I'll smile; it'll make your mom believe you did what she told you.” He was smiling, but for a different reason.

“Why do you walk so slowly?” This time he meant it.

“If you walk a little slower, life goes a little slower, and when life goes a little slower, by the time your my age, you won't regret a thing because you didn't miss much.” I replied, it was true, I started slowing down when I started sitting on the bench.

        He nodded in thought and slowed down even more. I smiled; curiosity of time slowing got the better of him. He looked puzzled, the clouds above were still going at their regular fast pace.

“I thought you said life goes a little slower? It isn't slowing down; I'm just wasting my time.” He walked to catch up with me again.

“Life goes a little slower, time doesn't slow down for anyone. I found that out when I was about your age. But look at life a little slower and you'll be okay.”

        We had made it back to my little apartment complex and my family didn't want to stay for dinner. I sat myself at this small, wooden chair that over looked the city, just watching. My mother had been in this chair most of her life knitting. I could only hope that my kids and their kids could take the time to enjoy a moment like this, where time is going by, but life slows for you to enjoy it.

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