A Morning in the Park with Miss Tillie

A Morning in the Park with Miss Tillie

                The withered old woman sat on the bench soaking up the sunlight as the world went on around her. All dreams lost and forgotten, they had long ago been brushed away, given over for more necessary things. Now they almost never came to mind save when a passerby causes her to remember, to fly for just a moment with wings of possibility. What could have been or should have been… perhaps would have been. But then the moment is past and she returns to her life upon the bench; soon they will come take her in for lunch.

            Shifting in her seat, Margaret turns to look across the path toward the small pond surrounded by children playing with the ducks, couples sharing picnics, and the occasional solitary soul strolling through the gardens seeking a quiet place for reflection and memory takes her again, bringing her back to this bench on a sunny spring day. Margaret had been strolling around the pond, wrapped in her favorite blue shawl for the wind still carried a bit of winter’s nip even though the sun shone bright. On that day, Margaret had wandered over to sit on the bench beside an elderly woman who sat watching; they had shared a pleasant conversation about the weather, the kids playing and how happy the couples seemed lying upon their blankets, their picnics all finished. The old woman had told her a story of life, love and loss. It was a lovely morning, as they talked all too soon the attendant had come and taken the old woman in for her lunch and Margaret had left the park. Margaret found herself thinking about the old woman throughout the evening; she had not even asked the old woman her name. Perhaps, she thought, she could return the next day and visit with the old woman again.

            But Margaret returned the next day, and the next, and the next but did not find the old woman. Finally, Margaret decided to inquire at the retirement center to see if she could find out the old woman’s name and speak with her again… but when she asked at the information desk the attendant would not give her an answer; Margaret asked to speak to the manager who eventually came and took Margaret into his office. The manager asked if she knew the elderly woman and Margaret explained how they had shared part of the morning in the park and that she had been so moved by the old woman’s stories and wanted to know her name and to visit with her further. The manager had looked down at his desk for a while and then cleared his throat before he began. “Miss Chantille, or Tillie as most new her, lived here at Parkview Retirement Center for several years. Miss Tillie was a favorite of many of our attendants, she was always ready to visit but not demanding, in fact almost no trouble at all. Miss Tillie requested to sit in the park on nice days and spent other days here in the dayroom in a large wingback chair covered in floral fabric beside the picture window that looks out over the grounds. We have sent inquiries to locate her family but have not found anyone. I am sad to say that Miss Tillie passed away four days ago; she had spent the morning in the park and come in for her lunch after which she decided to take an afternoon nap. That evening, her attendant went to check on her as she had not come to dinner and found that Miss Tillie had passed in her sleep. Miss Tillie has not had any visitors in her time with us and as we have been unable to find any relatives, we here at Parkview are holding a service here for her tomorrow at ten o’clock if you would like to attend.”

            Margaret had felt as if she had been slapped, she told the manager that she would definitely be there and left in a hurry. Standing beside the pond, she looked back up at the bench remembering a few days before… she had come to the park to sort out her thoughts concerning her future. Just that morning, Margaret had received an offer to write for a magazine whose readership was predominately middle to elderly age adults. Margaret had been unsure, she had not spent much time among elderly people and was still in her early thirties so not quite middle age either, but after talking with the old woman in the park who she now knew as “Miss Tillie” she had decided to accept the job; her first article was due on Monday. Margaret had pulled out her journal and scribbled “A Morning in the Park with Miss Tillie” before leaving the park to go home.

            Margaret’s gaze drifted across the pond, settling on a young woman walking up from the pond bank. The young woman asks, “Do you mind if I share your bench?” to which Margaret smiled and replied, “Certainly, certainly it is a lovely morning,” which began their conversation.