Old Lady

Shortly after we moved here about 28 years ago, I noticed an old lady walking on my street. The street is a cul de sac with only 10 houses on it, so the only walkers were the mail man and mothers taking their young children up to the school bus stop on the corner. Aside from the fact that she had no actual business walking here, she was noticeable for the striking if petite figure she cut.

She was small and light, very trim and erect. Her dark gray hair was always in a smooth chin length bob. Her customary outfit, which is not one you’d immediately associate with an old lady , was a hot pink tshirt with 3/4 sleeves and a pair of white capri pants. She wore these over plain white sneakers with thin white crew socks that were probably expensive and purchased one pair at a time instead of  in a six pack. If it was winter, the shirt and the pants were full length and a light vest and scarf were added. Every day no matter the weather she wore enormous Jackie O sunglasses.

I think her face was beautiful although I never really got a good look at it. She would move with a very quick purposeful stride down one side of my street and back up the other. Her arms were bent at the elbow and she would pump them as she walked in a very graceful way. Her arm movements were smooth and controlled, not like that crazy asymetrical thrusting you sometimes see. Her little boobs were the absolute definition of “pert” and they never changed locations. Now that my own body parts are moving south, I can look back and understand that she was wearing a padded bar or maybe even those pointy foam rubber pointy we used to call falsies.

I didn’t see her everyday but I did see her out walking up and down my street as recently as 2 years ago. She was clipping along at her customary pace and her hair was a much lighter shade of gray. She lived, I came to find out, on the street behind us with a very tall and burly white haired Irishman. I never in all the years we’re here saw in in any other setting. Not on a different street, not in the supermarket or in church and not at the polling place.

Was she old when we moved her or just middle aged with gray hair? Either way, that would make her either old or very old right now. I fully expect that at any time, I could look outside and I’d see her on my street again. And I wouldn’t be surprised.




5 thoughts on “Old Lady

  1. I read your story about the walking lady, then the very next thing I open is a picture of hillary walking the beach in her muumuu. http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2720212/A-straw-visor-muumuu-Hillary-SoulCycle-shorts-Bill-Relaxed-Clintons-enjoy-downtime-beach-dogs.html

    And I wondered…why have you not taken notice of this? 😉 I can’t imagine anything more perfect for a Cripes Suzette post. Or have you given up on politics?

    So how old do you think your walking lady is?

    • I look 100% better in my mumu and I’m a mess! The other upside for me is my husband never wears shorts. How satisfying is that?

  2. This post made me tear up a little. My classy little old lady is battling cancer in the most amazing way possible. She’s already 6 weeks over her predicted death date, she weighs about 98 pounds and she asked me to get her a book that has a September publishing date! I’ll do it too, and she’ll read it.

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