The woman had sat at her breakfast table for over half an hour, staring into nowhere. Her cold cup of tea occasionally made it’s way to her lips, but there was no sign she’d noticed. Of slight build, she appeared to be less than five feet tall, topped with a well-groomed mane of golden-brown shoulder-length straight hair. Her face was tight, with well-developed stress wrinkles.
When I spoke to her, she reacted eagerly for conversation. With no family at home, she comes to this city several times a year. Having tried several hotels, the friendliness of the housekeeping staff has convinced her that this hotel is best. When here, she wanders around the city, looking in second-hand places, but without buying. There was no activity she hoped to do on this visit.
Upon hearing I was going to visit Salisbury Cathedral, she screwed up her face. Therefore, I was surprised to hear she’d visited the cathedral twice this year. But her reason; an excellent cafe! Never mind the cathedral… and there was that face again.
She told me not to bother visiting the next city on my plans; it’s a hovel. And skip Bournemouthe… a dump. Further investigation revealed that there was nowhere nice in the UK, and no-one she wanted to visit. She also had nothing nice to say about her home town, or the people in it.
Amongst the myriad of women I’ve met on this journey, several have stories which stand out for their resilience and warmth.
There’s the lady who is in constant pain with a most unkind condition. And yet her smile is warm, and her graciousness truly lovely. She acknowledges her needs surprisingly matter-of-factly, and cares deeply about others. Despite physical limitations she continues to live a very full life.
Then there’s the woman I had the privilege of sharing a bus ride with on a rainy night. We discussed everything from representing history, to litter issues in Egypt, from Chatsworth House to making earings using resin, from race relations to enjoying what southern England has to offer.
She showed me locket photos of her two gorgeous daughters. I shared photos of grandchildren. We laughed a lot.
Then, she shared how her day had been spent undertaking pre-op for a recently diagnosed tumor. She fancies taking that tumor and creating something in resin. If I was offered one of my polyps, I would want to stamp on it, crush it, grind it into nothing.
On my travels I’ve met mum’s, grandmothers, aunties, and women with friends who they consider family. There’s been laborers, artists, business women, a biomechanical engineer, and so much more. Every one has spoken without bitterness.
So which came first for the lady at breakfast? Was there some event which has made her bitter, and now lonely? Or did her negativity drive folk away?
Whatever the cause, I pray she finds something to smile about today. Even more, I hope she finds some joy, and maybe a friend.
Stories for you - Enjoy! 