Preface
Here it is September 17, 1940, and I am still here.
“Oh my, all of you help me blow out all these candles before the firemen
arrive,” I yelled at all my grand kids. “I still don’t believe I am 87 years old.” This was true,
God had blessed me even now with good health; I could still do all my chores, live alone and most important, still be independent.
Yet here it was my birthday again. The kids were busy, but all the grandkids and
great grandkids were here for lunch including cake and ice cream. Everyone was laughing and joking. But, as always, good things
end, and when the last one had left the house once again was deadly quiet. I quickly cleaned up. As I was putting away things,
I noticed I was about out of milk. I decided to walk to the corner market and get some more. Besides, right now, I wanted
out of this quiet house and walking always helped me to relieve some of the loneliness. I had sold the car a few years ago.
After all, it was only a few blocks to the market.
I got my coat and basket from the closet and put on my gloves. As I stepped out
on the porch, a cold breeze hit me. “It’s my birthday chill, it always happens,” I said to myself, and as
with each passing year, it always made me smile.
Walking along, I am unaware of being cold. I speak to a few
neighbors along the way. I stand and wait for the light to change at the corner. Looking, both ways, I step out in the street.
I hear a scream behind me and turn, a car careens around the corner straight at me, and the world goes dark…
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ME?