passing moment: twilight

yesterday, i was leaving a downtown office building and, as i walked along a hallway towards the large glass doors leading to the street, i could see an elderly woman standing outside, carrying two bags of groceries, trying to push the “pull” doors. she looked like she might be in her late-70s, not frail but not terribly sturdy either. neatly dressed. clearly confused.

she was going from door to door, pushing when she should have been pulling, and she couldn’t seem to figure out what she needed to do in order to get inside. a young couple came up behind her and i thought, “ah, here we go. they see what’s happening and will hold the doors open for her.”

but they didn’t.

they scooted to the door farthest from the elderly woman, pulled it open and came into the building. i am consistently amazed by the astounding lack of manners, common sense and compassion in the world.

anyway...

i saw the woman watch them, and hoped she’d understand she needed to pull on the handle... but she just kept standing outside. then i wondered if, perhaps, she wasn’t strong enough to actually heave one of these big glass panes open on her own.

when i got to the doors, i went to the one nearest her, opened it, smiled and held it open. but she just looked at me and didn’t move.

“did you not want to go in?” i asked.

“pardon?”

“are you trying to get inside?” i said, still holding the door open.

“no," she answered. "out." then she pushed again on the door in front of her.

i suddenly felt very sad. in that second, this picture came into sharp focus, and i saw the edges of her life’s portrait fading inward, disappearing.

i let go of the door i was holding, and took the handle of the one on which she was pushing.

“it’s okay. you just have to pull, not push,” i explained cheerfully, and pulled the door open to show her.

“oh, i see. pull not push. thank you,” she said with a slight smile, clearly still uncertain, as she headed inside to wherever she was going.

after the door closed behind her, i went on my way... hoping she'd be able to find hers.