Today I went to help the elderly by playing piano, while they sang along familiar songs. Funnily enough, we had lunch together at a balcony after one of the sisters gave a talk on living as a person in their twilight years. There, I accompanied them, and strangely enough, one of the venerable people called me to seat next to her. So, I did, and she began talking with the most strikingly fluent English, that would put many of us youths into shame! Then, I realized that she looked just like my late grandmother, with the same hairstyle and color, and that particularly outstanding mole on her cheek. As we continued on our conversation, I learnt that she and my grandmother were childhood friends, who knew each other during the pre-war period. What she said, I would leave until later to speak about.
But it was then that I realized that all the elderly have stories to share, not just my own grandparents! This was not the first time I came for such an event, but today was the pioneer's period of me coming into such an understanding with them. Mostly I would just sit in the corner, and stuff myself full of food, being the greedy person that I am, but from now on, I would look at the elderly with their perspective of each other; friends and buddies, with their own life story to share, just looking for company to spend their time with, after living such a full life. Some of them have married daughters in England or are already carrying grandchildren in their arms, others are living life single, either unmarried, widowed or even divorced. Still, they are also human beings, going to an event with a smile on their faces, taking turns every alternate Wednesday to prepare breakfast lunch, or simple exercises that other elderly will learn to enjoy. From now on, nay more shall I turn to them with blind eye, since everyone of us are in the same family under God's wing.
So on the trip home, when I was about to cross the road to take the usual 156 bus which takes me homeward bound, I chanced upon one of the elders, and approached her. I think she was quite startled, for this was most probably the first time I spoke to her, for she was one of the more quiet and passive people in the event. But, I could sense her sincere smile, that with wrinkled eyes and all. Cars were approaching our direction, and I wanted to signal to her to cross, but she still started crossing anyway, making some strange noises and walking at a speed I have never seen any aged person with a walking stick travel before. At the other side of the road, she laughed, as though she had not experienced excitement like this since her youth. At the bus stop, I asked her whether she was fine, and she answered by saying the number seventy in Chinese, which I guessed, correctly, was the bus she was taking. So I just kept quiet, keeping her company while she waited for her bus. Shortly after, it came, and just before she boarded her bus, she turned to me and waved. I said to her, in Chinese of course, "okay then, see you on Sunday!" Her response was "Ah, ah. Yes, seventy."
It seemed that the happiness from her wrinkled smile and the sincere joy that she abounded so fully with was contagious!
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