Saturday is my day to run errands. I plot my route like an air traffic controller keeping in mind all of the different needs and details each stop requires along with one eye on gas usage. Going to the grocery store 99.9% of the time is my final destination before home.
Since Winn Dixie has great ground beef, prices, and gas rewards, I shop there. Winn Dixie has wider aisles and less tumult than Publix. The cement floor is homely and the clientele watch their pennies.
One of my hangups is I cannot grocery shop comfortably when a store is crowded. I get anxious to the point where I will forego picking up everything on my list just to get the hell out of there. The anxiety sometimes makes me feel like I can't breath so I will do the "Can I live without this item until I go again?" thing in my head. If I can, boom! It is added to my next grocery store list and I am released from the torture sooner rather than later.
Today there were very few people shopping and I was in my own little world of indecision as I stared at the meat prices matching up which of what was on sale and which of what was buy 1/get 1 free when I felt someone looking at me. I stood up and looked behind me to my right and saw a young woman maybe in her mid twenties. She had her straight light brown hair cut short and was pretty. Her left hand was bent at the wrist in an unnatural position and she held onto the cart with that along with her right hand. I noticed her stance was off kilter, too. I smiled at her and she smiled back. "Am I in your way," I asked. It wouldn't have surprised me if I was as I become oblivious to my surroundings when deep in thought. She replied, "No" clearly enough that I could understand her. That was the final clue that she probably had cerebral palsy or something similar. I smiled again and once again she smiled back but there was more that was unspoken. I was treating her as I would anyone else. I was showing her respect one person for another; I was not transmitting pity or averting my eyes.
There was an older woman about 6 feet away from the young lady looking at the cold food items and I figured it was her mother. She wore the same no-nonsense clothing and haircut. Even though they were not near each other or talking, I sensed a strong bond between them. As the daughter grew, the mother allowed her her own space. The mother had to decide a long time ago how she should behave when it came to caring for her child when she became an adult. By the way they both respected each other, it was clear they had worked out a healthy balance between hovering and independence.
I went back to concentrating on what I should buy and eventually we passed each other. I met the daughter's eyes one last time. After they both were behind me I turned around and saw that because her right leg was shorter than her left she walked on her tip-toes on her right foot.
There was something very beautiful about the young lady. Maybe I was seeing her soul as it touched my soul. To me she glided over the floor. I would have like to have talked to her. While the muscular dystrophy reeked havoc with her body, her spirit was not disfigured. It was gentle. In my mind I untwisted her limbs and unfroze her tongue.
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