It’s a short and lovely walk to get groceries.
Children playing. Adults lunching or enjoying their coffee. Construction to raise the value of the area.
It’s all so great. Until you get shamed for not being grateful.
Now on my way back. Two bags. One on each shoulder. Trying not to think about the extra weight on my cankle.
I come to a crosswalk. There was a car. It had been stopped there for a while before I approached. I go to cross. They let go of the brake. And rebrake. I don’t engage in the: no you go ahead. Instead, I move to walk behind the car.
Maybe it’s because I have trouble inconveniencing others. Or because I didn’t want to stop my steady pace.
I’m behind the car. The car still doesn’t move.
I’m now on the other side of the street and the car still hadn’t moved. I hear: um, I waited for you. The voice wasn’t kind. It was rude-kind.
I’m now a few feet down the street. The car follows me slowly: woooow.
And they finally drive on.
And here I thought, wooow, was only my family’s judgy response.
They really did want to let me know I didn’t see their kindness. And that it wasn’t appreciated.
And still grateful for the sometimes lovely walk to get groceries.