Failure & Fear

When I was offered a job visiting an elderly woman, I jumped at the chance. It sounded like a dream job to me: I, for some cold hard cash, would get to hang out with someone for a few hours, shooting the breeze, eating lunch, hearing about the “good ole days”, watch movies…and maybe even make a new friend!

I visited for the first time today, and things did not go well. The catch was, the woman can’t know that I was being paid…I had to win her over, with only the weapon of a mutual friend in my arsenal. It wasn’t enough. She asked me to leave after 20 minutes.

Now, I’m rather familiar with failure. Aren’t we all, to some degree? But I am not familiar with failing to win people over. I made it out of the assisted living place and to my car, where I proceeded to bawl my eyes out all the way home.

A) I’d failed. B) This woman used to be lively and vivacious, but now she was so worn out that she didn’t have the energy to have a visitor that wasn’t family. She’s in her early 90s, and the “turn” was only a year or two ago. I have a great aunt who is the same age, but she’s very different. They’re both in walkers, begin assisted by somebody else, but she’s down to talk and sit with people.

When I get to the end of my life, I want to want to have visitors. I want to sit and shoot the breeze with people. I don’t want to “turn”. I’d almost rather die early than have a “turn”.

On the bright side, the Euro Cup was exciting, although, since I didn’t have a loyalty one way or the other, I went with the underdog Italia, and it was a bit rough to watch, but it was brilliantly played nonetheless. Inspired, my sister and I kicked the soccer ball around in the triple digit heat. We gave up after 5 minutes.


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