Killing time

Three or four years ago I was visiting a wonderful older parishioner, Maude Atchason.
She’d lived as a widow for many years, and now in her late eighties, lived a very quiet and (for her) an entirely boring life.

She said “I sometimes wonder why I have lived so long”. “I am glad that you did” was my reply.

“Oh” she said. “Yes” I replied, “if you had not lived so long, I would not have had a the great pleasure of knowing you”.

She said back in her chair, and thought for a moment. Then it came from her lips to my ears “that’s quite a line isn’t it. I bet you use that on old the old ladies”.

Touché.

Yesterday I was with a good friend whose beloved partner died last October. We were at a “Coffee Klatch” together, and he was ready to leave whilst I was engaged in a good conversation. By the time I was through, he was also in conversation, so not wishing to disturb him I moved outside to have a cigarette and wait.

He can out three or four minutes later; asking me if I was ready to leave. “Yes“, I said, “I was waiting for your conversation to end”.

“I was just killing time” was his rejoinder. “My life is over, and all I can do is kill time”.

Comments

  1. Keeping him in my thoughts and prayers, and hoping that he will be comforted in his grief.

    ReplyDelete

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