Homebodies - The time waiting was not wasted
- Details
- Published on Tuesday, February 3, 2015
By Rita Friesen
I had accompanied friends to a specialised health clinic in a larger center. The waiting room was filled to overflowing and so I sat in the anti chamber. More like a hallway, or a landing at the top of the stairs, the chairs were near filled here as well. The upside was that the reading material was current and covered a wide range of interests. I was gifted an hour to do what I truly enjoy doing, people watch.
One gentleman used the wait time to walk. Up the stairs and sit a spell, down and back up. Not certain whether he sat again on the main floor or stepped outside to do a stroll there. I did notice that the sit time increased in length. Don’t think he was heading out for a smoke! Another gentleman struggled not to make eye contact with anyone. Quietly and studiously worked his way through one interesting article after another. Never looked up or out. Middle aged plus gentlemen comfortable with the perpetual use of their cell phone. Quiet chuckles and slow entered responses.
The flow of individuals through the office door was intriguing. Old and older. Some walking independently, some coming up by elevator and slowly shuffling into the queue. Many accompanied by a partner or a child. Always being treated, in this public setting, with patience and courtesy. Farmers with well worn jeans, lettered jackets and sneakers, no name brands and big name brands. None were sporting the traditional farmer’s hat. My guess is that they left it in the pick up. Frail or hearty, all had come to be helped.
There were other medical offices on the same floor. From the flow of gangly youth with dental braces, I assumed an orthodontist worked down the hall. Obvious apprehension on the faces of those heading in, and a smile and a re-adjusting of the lips coming out. I recall the discomfort of a new set of railway tracks!
One couple in particular captured my attention and my imagination. They were no longer young. Had been tall and distinguished, and appeared undaunted by life. She was wearing a long fur coat. Stylish in years gone by. Softly rouged cheeks and defined lipstick. And a small neat black hat, gloves and a square handbag. He was wearing a dark wool car coat, gloves and a fedora. They paused for a moment to ascertain that all was well and summoned the elevator. Then carefully, hand in hand they descended. My imagination had a driver and a Rolls awaiting them. It could have been a taxi. It probably was a patience friend or neighbour, or their own Buick, product of the seventies. I will never know.
The time waiting was not wasted. I spoke pleasantries with rural folks. We have a need to connect and are not afraid to meet another’s gaze and chat. I engaged my imagination. I gave thanks for the care available, and that it was not yet my turn to require it!
