The Lady in the tartan coat.

 

Why didn't I say something???  She was waiting in the Chemist like I was, and walked past me on her way out.   She would have been in her late seventies, maybe more, in a wonderful long bright tartan coat and a large stylish winter hat.  She walked carefully out and as she was passing I so wanted to say 'love your coat', but bottled it and she was gone into the cold dark.

Her coat spoke of younger, vibrant times when she would have walked briskly, surrounded by friends laughing and talking together.  To buy and wear a coat like that would have taken confidence as she would always stand out wherever she went, especially in our  darkly clothed wintery Glasgow.   I am sure she had other coats she could have worn when she came out shopping.   I wonder whether she pulled that one from the back of the wardrobe because she wanted to feel a little different today, make an ordinary shopping trip more of an event.  Wearing a coat like that would transform even a visit to Costa.

And that is where I saw her ten minutes later.   As I waited for a friend to arrive she came over slowly carrying her tray and sat with her back to me in the next table over.   The two tables on either side of us had groups of school girls full of chat and energy and most of the other tables were occupied.  She sat alone, her back straight and her coat still on, gazing out of the dark window and drinking slowly.  I finally plucked up the courage to say 'I love your coat', but she didn't hear me and just then my friend arrived.   After 20 or 30 minutes she gathered up her things and walked slowly out.

Why do we find it so difficult to say something to folk we don't know?   I've no idea whether she conversed with anyone that day...her aloneness at the table was in great contrast to all the noise and youthful energy around us.  And yet I know that she was the life and soul of a group once, that she has loved much and lived a rich and meaningful life,  and even on a driech winter evening in suburban Scotland she wanted to stand out.  She wanted to still matter.

Most older folk just blend in to the crowds and their surrounding and often go unnoticed and unrecognised.  She refused to be unnoticed, she too was full of life once and she still is.  Despite the losses and griefs and inevitable decline a brightness yet remains.  She didn't need me to speak to her that evening, but perhaps it may have taken the edge off of things a little, a courtesy that recognises the courage in another person, their unique story.  I was the one who lost out, beyond a doubt, and I will be forever looking out now for that tartan coat again.