Have you ever wondered how age changes the way people treat you? Margaret, 73, was heartbroken when her neighbour accused her of disturbing his peace with her cane “tapping” and called the police. Her daughter’s fierce response brought tears to the eyes of the elderly woman.
My name is Margaret and at 73 years old, I still pride myself on taking care of myself. I may need my trusty walking stick to get around, but that doesn’t stop me from living a full life. This apartment, filled with memories of my late husband George, is my refuge. It’s been five years since he left, but his presence lingers in every corner…Lately, however, a new wrinkle has appeared in my life, and he goes by the name of Arnold, my downstairs neighbor. This young man, who can’t be more than 37 years old, seems to have a lot of resentment towards my trusty walking stick.
Every now and then, he comes to my door, red-faced and booming, accusing me of “clicking” his heels and keeping him up all night.The first time it happened, I was perplexed. “It’s just my cane, darling,” I tried to explain, my voice shaking. “I can’t just leave it hanging in the air, can I?”
His response was like a slap in the face.
“Go to a nursing home,” he sneered. “The grave is calling you, old lady. Why don’t you get off the face of the earth? No one’s happy to have you here anyway. If I hear your stupid talk again, I swear I’ll call the police for disturbing the peace.”
Tears filled my eyes as he stormed off. How could anyone be so cruel, especially to someone his mother’s age? Did he not respect his elders?
Furious and heartbroken, I called my daughter Jessie. She lives a few hundred miles away, but is always just a phone call away.
“Mom! Don’t worry,” Jessie said, her voice tight with anger. “I’ll be over first thing tomorrow. We’ll sort this rude little slob out once and for all.”
Thinking of my sweet, level-headed daughter standing up to that bully made me smile, even through tears. But before Jessie could arrive, Arnold was back the next afternoon, this time even more hostile.
“There you go again!” he bellowed, pointing at me. “Stomping like a herd of elephants! I can’t take it anymore! THE POLICE ARE ON THEIR WAY!”
Fear took hold of me.
The police? I’d never been in trouble with the law in my life. Just then, a knock on the door sent shivers down my spine. There they were, two uniformed officers, looking stern.Arnold, standing smugly behind them, pointed at me and launched into another rant about the “noise” I made with my “stupid cane.”
“She lives alone and is a living hell for everyone around her,” he added before storming down the stairs, his voice full of malice. “She belongs in a nursing home, that’s where she belongs!”Arnold, standing smugly behind them, pointed at me and launched into another rant about the “noise” I made with my “stupid cane.”