Saturday afternoon, as I was on the back porch, twisting wire for jewelry, Nanny came sauntering around the corner. She'd come to ask if I would drive her to her eye doctor appointment on Monday. I agreed, and we agreed on a departure time. Yesterday morning, I picked her up at 10:15 for her noon appointment. It was a long drive.
Nanny doesn't get much opportunity to talk to people, outside of churches, funeral homes, and grocery stores, and she had a fresh story to relate about something that had happened after church the previous day. She started the story as we started down her driveway on the way to the doctor.
As Nanny and another lady were leaving the building (they and the minister were the last to leave), they encountered an Hispanic lady in the church parking lot. Her tire had gone flat. She wasn't very fluent in English. Grandsons had to be called in to get lug nuts off. Nanny ended up driving the lady and her tire to a tire repair place. While they waited for the fix, the lady took Nanny to lunch. But the lady was able to drive away on a good tire.
We'd been on the road close to an hour by the time Nanny got to the part where she got home. We'd taken detours up family trees and down gravel roads her father had paved when he worked for the WPA in nineteen and thirty-five. I learned why the helpful grandson was living with his grandmother, how old he is, and where he works.
I just drove. . . .
On the heels of that story came news of cousin Duffy, who was in a rehab/nursing home in the same town. That one was a good ten-minutes leading up to the request: Could we stop to see about him after the doctor's appointment and after lunch at the all-you-can-eat buffet? The visit wouldn't take long.
(Lord Jesus . . . .)
Sure, why not.
My brain was numb by the time I got home, close to four o'clock.
My BFF called about suppertime, just as The Husband got home from work. I had her on speaker phone as he came out to the porch, telling her about my day with Nanny, and how I learned more than I wanted to know about some townsfolk in a story that was technically about a lady with a flat tire.
My BFF said, "We do the same thing."
I said, "I know."
And The Husband just laughed and laughed.
