Kid- you up for a “distance” walk?

my elderly neighbor is bad-ass

I have a neighbor who is in her mid-eighties and is one of the brightest fireballs I know. She hikes everyone, using two hiking poles to help keep her steady and march out a pace. She is a tall, lean woman, always has been slight of build according to friends who have known her for decades. She has beautiful white hair that she wears in a bun with tendrils framing her face. Her eyes are blue, always with a sparkle of mischief. She is one of the most socially conscious, connected, loving, and kick-ass women I’ve ever met. One of the original feminists.

Before Christmas, my husband and I had her over to our house for cocktail hour. Her drink is always a martini with two olives, extra ice. I always make food when we have her over because I worry she doesn’t feed herself enough. I’m sure she eats well, but I was raised in Indiana and when anyone came to our house when I was growing up, you fed them. Hoosier hospitality still runs deep in my veins.

Conversation with her is always spirited and you never know what will come from her, which is one of the reasons I love hanging out with her so much. We were talking about her children and grandchildren. She told us she had five children because she was raised a Catholic and was of child-bearing age “back when the Vatican controlled my reproductive life.” She says this and laughs out loud saying if she were a young woman today, things would have been different. Oh, don’t get her wrong, she loves all of her children, but she sees the world through a different lens today. Much like we all do.

I get a text from her asking if I wanted to go on a “social distance” hike. It’s fifty degrees outside, the middle of April on the Oregon coast, and she still gets her walks in every day. She calls me “kid,” well, she calls everybody “kid” who is younger than her, and at 84 years old, many people are.

“Kid, you wanna go on a social distance hike with me?”

“Of course” I replied. “Nothing I would rather do than hang out with you.”

“Let’s go at 2 pm, so we don’t compete with Happy Hour.”

“That’s a great idea, meet you on the street at 2 pm in front of your house” I replied.

I know there will be stories from the news, and her host of children and their lives. She is well-read, including the Mueller Report Volumes I and II. She watches the news, including cable news she doesn’t necessarily agree with because she says “you got to know what the other side is saying.” She is practical and pragmatic, independent, and extremely generous. She still takes classes at Portland State, volunteers at the homeless shelter, and takes each of her grandchildren on a trip for their sixteenth birthday to anywhere in the world they choose. She is now extending those trips to the great-grandchildren. She travels more than most people I know, and absolutely LOVES people of every race, ethnicity, gender, and geography.

I cannot imagine a world without her. We have some kick-ass elders among us and when I get bored staying at home, practicing physical distancing, I think of her and I remind myself that I am doing this for her, and my mom, my in-laws, my step-children, my husband, my friends, all my neighbors, and everyone, everywhere.

It helps me to put a face, my kick-ass neighbor’s face, to my physical distancing. It makes it very real. And it makes me smile. She’s worth it.