By that point I was happy. It. No longer mattered if an ancient Asain grandmother was cheering me on. Her complete happiness sparked the flame inside of me. I worked out happy. As I left, she was still standing there. My good wishes fell on deaf ears.
Sunday, March 16, 2014
The Asian Grandmother
As I approached the front door to my gym tonight, I came across an elderly Japanese woman, probably in her late nineties, with her hands extended in front of her clapping. Her hair was a little matted, jade jewelry clanked as she wiggled. She appeared to be like every Japanese grandmother I'd ever met. At first I thought maybe she was applauding my efforts of dragging my dried up carcass to work out. As I approached her smiling face I began to think "Wow, somebody cares. Someone is glad to see me today. I can do this!!!" I was overcome with happiness as I came close and realized that the smile on her face was directed onto an imaginary spot somewhere above my head. Most likely, she was communicating with some unseen thing, or entity.