Living Close to the Edge

Today I saw some people who I think are living “close to the edge.”  Close to the edge of what….illness, homelessness, disaster of some kind?

I had to pick up a few things and went to a local Walmart.  In the store, I passed a woman standing still and leaning heavily on her cart.  She was making a strange sound as though she was clearing her throat with every breath.  She did not look as though a collapse was imminent, so I walked on by listening for a worsening of the sounds.  Had I heard such, I would have turned around and asked her if she needed assistance.  I thought to myself, “this woman is teetering on the edge of a major physical problem.”

I had driven to the Walmart following Google maps over some back roads which I had not taken before.  On the way, I passed a strange sight.  Out in the middle of nowhere, I saw a young man with a cart heaped higher than he was tall.  The cart was not a grocery cart or a wagon.  I could tell by the wheels that it was a very sturdy cart, but the wheels were all I could see.  The mounded-up contents of the cart were covered with a large sheet of black plastic. The guy was just standing by the roadside as though he was waiting for someone.  When I passed him on the return trip, he was still there in the same place.  He had a large shaggy dog with him, which I hadn’t noticed earlier.  What was his story?  Was he homeless and the cart contained all his earthly possessions?  Was someone coming for him?  Had he slept in that field last night?

It has been a gray, dismal, rainy day here at the cottage.  So, when I discovered that my husband had forgotten to bring the medications he is supposed to take before bed, I said that I saw no reason for us not to drive back to our apartment and get them.  It is about an hour and 15 minutes each way, but we had nothing special we needed to do anyway.  Just before getting back to town, we passed through a very small hamlet…pretty much just four corners, although it has a convenience store and a bar.  I was driving, and I noticed a very frail elderly lady standing beside the road as though she wished to cross the busy highway.  She was wearing shorts and a scarf and had a purse hanging from her arm.  She walked so slowly that I was worried about her finding a big enough break between cars to cross.  We picked up the medications at the apartment along with a back rest pillow since Bill is having a lot of sinus drainage and being propped up might help.  We turned right around to head back.  The elderly woman was still at that intersection.  She had crossed to the other side and was standing in a parking lot near the highway looking confused.  Where does she belong?  Is she safe out on her own?  Why is she hanging out at this intersection?  I’m thinking she is a person in need of supervision.

As we go about our lives, we rarely know the story behind the people we pass.  Which ones need our help?  Which ones would accept our help?  We can’t reach out to everyone we meet.  Who is teetering on the edge? 

I guess there is a sense in which we all are “close to the edge.”  Some of us are just oblivious to it.