Short Years

The Short Years

May Belle fixed up her hair and clipped on pearl earrings, the ones Joseph had given her for their 38th wedding anniversary. Years and years had passed since then. They'd reached their 50th anniversary. And then celebrated their 58th just two weeks before Joseph's accident.

Joseph had been gone now for almost six years. But the pearl earrings still shone like new. He'd given her many gifts over the years but for some reason the pearl earrings were her favorite. She even wore them on regular days when nothing special was happening.

A day like today, for example. A day when she needed milk and oatmeal and postage stamps. She would put on some lipstick and go to Trader Joe's, yes, she would. And then she would go to the post office and maybe even get herself an ice-cream cone at Thrifty's.

Trader Joe's was busy. So many young people banging down the aisles with their grocery carts. So many unkempt children hollering in their seats. May Belle fixed a smile on her face and eased herself down the frozen foods aisle in the center of the store. There were so many things to choose from these days. Entire aisles full of foods she could never have dreamed of as a child. It was like a food amusement park.

May Belle found her way to the frozen, steel-cut oatmeal. As she turned to place the box in her cart, she saw a baby. This was her favorite part of grocery stores. Babies.

"Why, hello!" she cooed at the baby who was propped up on her mother's hip.

The baby stared.

"Your baby is adorable," May Belle said to the mother who was examining the label of something called "ancient grains."

"Thanks," the mother said, nodding her head toward May Belle but not meeting her eyes.

"I bet you hear that all the time, don't you?"

"What's that?"

The mother looked up, startled. May Belle pushed on. Sometimes this was the only human conversation she had each day.

"I just said I bet people tell you that your baby is adorable all the time."

"Oh. Yeah. Thanks. She's quite the little handful."

"They grow up so fast," May Belle offered.

"Do they?" The young mother didn't seem convinced.

May Belle noticed the dark circles under the mother's eyes, the fatigue lines across her forehead. She remembered the sleepless nights of babyhood and felt a surge of empathy.

"The days are long but the years are short," she said and patted the mother's arm kindly. "You're doing a good job."

Suddenly, the young mother's eyes filled with tears.

"Oh, my. I didn't mean to upset you, dear," May Belle flustered.

"No, no. You didn't upset me," the mother said, dashing at her eyes with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. "It was just—well, that was just the nicest thing someone has said to me today. I guess I needed to hear it."

May Belle smiled. Today was a good day. She'd made somebody happy. Happy enough to cry.

"You take good care of yourself now," she said as she began pushing her cart away.

"Oh, wait!" the young mother cried. "Would you—would it be weird if we exchanged phone numbers? I'm new to this town. I'm looking for friends."

May Belle was taken aback. Young people didn't ask for her phone number. Young people never even talked to her. This was unexpected and somehow, quite wonderful.

"Well, my goodness. Of course you may have my phone number." May Belle rustled around her purse for a paper and pen.

"Oh, just tell me your number and I'll put it in my phone," said the mother. "No need to write it down. I'll just text you my number in return. I'm Carrie, by the way."

This was a lot of information to take in. May Belle shook her head to clear it. No paper and pen. Her name was Carrie. She was going to text her the number, whatever that meant.

"Well, Carrie. I'm May Belle. Pleased to meet you," May Belle held out her hand and Carrie shook it.

May Belle recited her phone number for Carrie and watched as she tapped it into her phone.

"I must say, it would be better if you called me instead of that texting stuff," May Belle said. "I'm not good with my cell phone, I only use it for emergencies. But if you call my home phone, I'll gladly answer. Or you can leave a message on my answering machine. I am good at returning phone calls."

Now it was the young mother's turn to look confused. "You don't use your cell phone?"

"No, dear. It's too much hassle and they keep changing things on it. I do hope this won't deter you. I would so love to chat. All my children have grown up and gone."

Carrie smiled. "Of course it won't deter me. Thank you May Belle."

"I look forward to hearing from you," May Belle said. "Please do call so I can write down your number. I don't have a pen and paper with me today."

At that moment, the baby squalled, it's little face turning red. May Belle watched as Carrie's attention disappeared into the baby. She smiled again and made her way down the aisle, throwing a quick little goodbye wave at Carrie. But Carrie didn't see May Belle wave. In fact, Carrie never saw May Belle again. Later that week, May Belle slipped and fell in her little apartment. This led to a hip replacement surgery and several months of rehabilitation. May Belle didn't listen to her answering machine messages during that time. When she finally did get around to listening to her answering machine, it was nearly six months later. Her children were moving her to an assisted living facility fifty miles away so calling Carrie back seemed rather pointless.

But they'd had that tender moment in the frozen food aisle of Trader Joe's and Carrie would never forget it. Even when she'd forgotten May Belle's name and what she looked like, she always remembered how one tired, mundane day when her first child was a baby, an old lady had made her feel seen and loved. The days are long but the years are short. She never forgot that, either.