The Angry Woman

 I suppose we all know a person like her. She is a forceful woman, opinionated and outspoken. No matter what is going on, she is in the middle of it. It is a chronic complaint that 'if she didn't do it, it would not get done.' The problem is that if someone feels sorry and tries to pitch in, she criticizes, mercilessly. Not just to her volunteer, but to everyone in the vicinity. Everyone knows that *sniff* "she would have done it differently, *sniff* but of course, (modestly lowering her eyes) that's just her..." 

The first time that I saw that in action, I made a silent note to myself: 'Do NOT ever volunteer for anything that that woman is involved in...I would look like a screw up before all was said and done. She would make sure of it.'

Into that little social circle came another family, and that woman was just as actively involved in her community as this woman. When she heard, 'if I don't do it,  it will not get done...', she stepped forward and pitched in. I watched and I waited, and inevitably, the sniffing and the snideness began.  

It was ignored. The 'new girl' simply continued working on. Even worse, people responded to her methods much more favorably, so she was able to accomplish a lot more. 

That indignity was too much to be borne, and so the 'old girl' and her husband left that little group, and threw themselves in to another group where her efforts would be "more appreciated". 

Last week, I was quite surprised to hear that she'd received probably the greatest shock of her 60+ years. I know I was shocked for her. 

It had to be humiliating for her. I found myself feeling sorry for her. I hadn't seen her in months, but I couldn't stop thinking about how different her life must be. I remembered how hard it is to continue on when you know that people are discussing  you behind your back. Holding your head up and continuing on with life even when you feel like curling up in a hole someplace and never emerging. The more I thought about it, the more sympathy I had for her, but the fact is, she didn't like me. I couldn't exactly just walk up to her house, tap on her door and say, "Hey...you've been on my mind..."

I've been ticking off my Christmas shopping. William's done. Iris and Ruby are done. Tim's grands are done. My daughter and son-in-law in England are done. The shopping is complete for the Levi and Mattie's kids. All that shopping, and still I'm holding good on my vow not to use Amazon. (I'm quite proud of that.) 

Today, Tim and I went to two stores to do a bit of a comparison shop. We found what we were looking for and made up our minds where to make those purchases. I was standing in the check out line when I noticed her: that woman that's preoccupied my thoughts. 

She looked as if she's lost some weight and her hair was carefully curled, a real change from her usual business-like bob. I felt as if I should maybe go say hello and wish her a happy holiday. Except maybe it wasn't going to be a happy holiday. Would she think that I was the one being snide? Maybe just: "Hello. It's good to see you." Nothing else, just a courtesy. 

 I was waiting for Tim at the front of the checkout. She was several people back in line. I was still hesitating when it happened: we both caught each other's eye. She glared at me with a shocking ferocity. It was so unexpected that I flinched. 

Tim and I went out the door and walked across the parking lot. I mused on it to Tim. He said, "I thought that was her..." 

It's still hard not to feel a bit sorry for her. I hope that she is finding comfort somewhere.