Last Sunday, Feb. 27, began as usual–sort of. It was my grandfather’s birthday, so naturally my family and I spent the day celebrating. By six p.m., we had returned to my grandfather’s apartment to drop him off.

What I did not expect was my mother to request that I help the elderly woman walking across the street with a cart full of groceries. I was surprised by the fact that I had not seen this woman earlier as she walked along slowly. Nonetheless, I followed my mother’s orders.

As I walked up to the elderly woman, a clear expression of confusion settled on her face. I said something along the lines of, ‘Would you like any help carrying in your groceries?’ to which she responded with a curt ‘No, thank you.’

Okay, I thought. She’ll just keep walking and I’ll be on my way then. I thought wrong. Instead, the elderly woman asked me to walk along with her to her apartment.

For nearly 30 minutes, I walked with this elderly woman to her apartment as she told me about her life. I learned that she had been living alone in San Diego after her two sons moved away. After she explained to me her interests and her hobbies, she asked me about my own life. She asked me questions about the school I attend, who I was related to in the building, my age—all things I would have been cautious telling just anyone. However, seeing how my family was just close by, I thought there was no need to be cautious around her.

At one point, the elderly woman began telling me about her frustrations with her apartment. More specifically, how she was discontent with the upstairs apartment neighbors whom she did not get along with very well. By this time, we made it into the building’s complex and walked towards her apartment. Before we actually made it into the apartment, however, I received a call from my mother asking for me to return to my grandfather’s apartment, so I assured the elderly woman that I would return to talk with her.

Once I returned to my grandfather’s apartment I informed my mother of the elderly woman’s conversation with me and informed her that I promised to return to her apartment complex. So, after leaving my grandfather’s apartment 20 minutes later, my mother and sister walked with me to the elderly woman’s apartment.

What Crying in H Mart taught me about overcoming grief

A fight to the finish

A good night's sleep

After a few knocks on her door, the woman opened the door and introduced herself to my mother and sister. Talking with the woman a second time around revealed how unintentionally funny she was. In her conversation about her neighbors, she excused herself for speaking loudly, which she explained was to annoy the upstairs neighbors. In her moment of spite, she made my mother, sister and I laugh. 

I hope that the woman found as much contentment and companionship as I did with her. Meeting this elderly woman showed me that if we take the time to listen to those around us, we will find that everyone has a story to tell and that they live lives as distinct as our own.

As I observe those around me, I see people living in a different world through their screens. Whether it be through their phones or television, personal one-on-one connection is lost through the pixels of a screen. Up until Sunday, Feb. 27, I also was stuck in this routine. However, because of the face-to-face conversation I had with the elderly woman, I was able to step out of my bubble and listen to the people around me.