Charming Soul

I met a charming woman with the hint of an Irish accent on a breezy summer evening about a year ago. As I walked Jacky around the parking lot, she waved me over so she could say hello to my exuberant Jack Russell.

“Oh, my,” she said. “He’s an energetic one, isn’t he?”

I laughed and told her she had no idea. Multiply his current level of excitement by 100 and we might have a more accurate accounting of his zest for life.

“I can’t imagine,” she laughed as she fluffed her reddish-dyed hair.

“I’m 92,” she said.

“Wow, you look amazing and have quite a bit of energy yourself.”

She laughed. “I walk, you know.”

I explained that I had seen her doing her laps inside the building. From that moment, I looked forward to seeing her as she sat in the lobby or passed my apartment on her walking excursions. She only visited me once when she saw me taking a box of items to my car to donate. She wanted to know if I was giving away any pots and pans with lids. I seized the opportunity to buy new stainless pans and gift her my old ones. She came by one evening to look and after turning them all over, she took a small saucepan and a medium stock pot. I told her she should drop by for tea and cake sometime. She promised she would. I promised I would invite her.

I noticed I had not seen her but one time since she came for the pots and that was about a month ago. I had missed her. She never failed to ask about my day and to tell me I had a pretty face. I missed her Irish lilt and her constant smile. When I got home from work, I looked for her to be sitting in the lobby and knew the ending to my day would be just a bit brighter when she was at the door welcoming folks home.

Have you ever met someone and known little about them, but for some spiritual reason, your soul recognized theirs and you always felt better just being in their presence? That was Abby.

This evening, I saw one of the other women of The Madison and asked if she had seen Abby lately. She told me Abby had fallen a few weeks ago. She had managed to call 911 and crawl to the door to let the emergency workers inside, but her hip had been broken in the fall and required surgery.

I’m not sure why the death of a woman I knew so little has affected me deeply, but I am heartbroken. I wish I had known so I could have attended her funeral and met the son she bragged about.

For anyone having a glass of wine tonight, raise a toast in honor of Abby.