Life

Life passes us by every day, but who really notices?

Have you ever walked into a shopping centre or high street and sat down in one of the many seats. Not because you needed a rest, but to look at people going about their daily life walking past. I do it nearly every time I go there, and I believe it has become a ritual with me. As an author of fiction I have a good imagination that works nearly twenty four hours a day. In a typical sitting if you look without staring, you will see the confident business man right down to the person doing their window shopping wishing their life away.

I see young girls no older than eighteen that have all the best years of their life ahead, but through a mistake or a false love they are destined to push that baby in a pram for another few years. Their life is over before it has got off the starting block. Their trail to their destiny has now been hampered by a child that they would in most cases die for.

What they dreamed of doing while in their high school years has been placed on hold. They know it will not be within their grasp for many years, and in some cases I can see the despair in their eyes knowing it will never take place. Their knight in shining armour has ridden on, leaving them to the fearful dragon called life. I know that if they are not strong and fight hard, the dragon will steal their soul before they realise their true worth.

From now until things get better their only holiday might just be a day at the beach, or a weekend at their mothers. To have a holiday in Spain or the French Riviera are now just a dream. Tax credits and social security will never pay for luxuries such as those. “That’s her fault,” I hear you say, but I say “Only partly.” School teaches you right from wrong and the basics of life. The harsh realities of life can only be learned by experience, but then it is usually far too late to go back in time. It is at that stage you find that you have lost your identity and have become just another statistic. I hear you saying, “That is just your imagination.” Yes it might be, but with one of these many pram pushing girls I must be right, and it is her I am talking about.

I see the old woman looking at the colourful modern clothes in the windows, Clothes meant for those same eighteen year old girls. They stand and look with many different expressions on their faces. The old women that is smiling at the manikin; I wonder what is going through her mind. Is she thinking of that last cruise she went on before her husband took ill which changed her life forever? Or is she thinking of those days when she wore those same revealing dresses.

A woman walks past bent at the waist. Her clothes are what I would call functional at best. Neither the colour nor the style suits her, but she has tried her best to look what she thinks is presentable. To those of us believe we know of her hardship who ourselves are aged, she looks elegant. Her meagre pension is just allowing her to live to get through another week. The steps of the old woman are short and faltering. Her weathered face tells the story of a hard life, and in her eyes are the signs of pain, tiredness. Her mind is now programmed to walk the hard trudge to the shops just to live before god allows her peace.

An old man sits on the bench next to me, who is leading a small dog that sits between his legs. He says nothing as he catches his breath, but he glances towards me and smiles. I can see his body even through his clothes, giving me the impression that he is now thin and frail. On the bench next to him is a single tin of dog food, to look after his best friend. He has a walking stick in one hand that is trembling while in his grasp. On standing up he has trouble, and I stand and take hold of his arm. Once on his feet our eyes meet, and I could see the hint of shame that he felt because of his tired body. He never spoke but I realised this might be me one day.

I sat down once more, but why I have no idea. Those people that I had seen had walked into the maze of people, and others had now taken their place. We are not all blessed with health and wealth, and I have my own crosses to carry. There was nothing I could do to lighten their load, and I knew I would never dwell on their problems or see them again. However, I could not help myself silently wishing them luck, with the hope that their lives would get better for the sake of their future.

Be well Ian.