> Tonight after work I stop at the local convenience store. I get out of my car and this couple comes out of the store and the guy turns to me and says, "Hey cutie," in a tone that was only meant cruelly. His young miss came tripping after him, laughing. I, in my shock, managed a thin, icey smirk before entering the store.
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> I went about my business with only one poisonous comment to the guy beyond the counter (a friend of mine) who looked at the couple getting in their car with curiosity but, wisely, did not press me for details.
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> I thought about that guy the whole ride home. I am still thinking about him.
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> A couple weeks ago we found out that my Grandfather is dying of cancer. He sleeps in a hospital bed on the other side of the wall from my bed and at night he knocks on the wall for me to tuck him in after his frequent trips to the bathroom. Since I am a heavy sleeper I only let myself half-sleep lately, until Grandma wakes up at 5AM and takes over. Last night an old friend came out to visit, so I took the night off and went out. This morning I was beyond tired, but I had to be up early to look after Grandpa and my sister, and then off to work. I couldn't have made myself look any frumpier if I tried, and my face was a ghastly contrast of dark-ringed eyes on pale from weariness. I went through work emotionally empty, but was feeling heartened by thoughts of my bed when I finally locked the store up and headed to the convenience store to pick up some lotto tickets for Grandpa, where I was met by that gem of humanity.
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> I just broke from this note to help my Grandfather up off his bed. This is the last night he will be able to walk himself to the bathroom, and it's going to be a long night. For him, it is a steady, dehumanizing dying. For me and my family it is heavy work, for we must continue to be ourselves and pieces of him too as he loses his mobility and self-control to cancer.
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> He didn't know me, what I've been through lately, how tired I was...how I need to be built up of left alone, not treated as if I were an ugly scar on the earth.
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> Tell me, because never have I felt the desire to hurt someone so carelessly, am I human? Or is it he who doesn't understand that in no way is he beyond what my Grandpa is suffering not two yards from where I sit right now...

That couple at the convenience store don't really count. People, in general, are pretty nice. But you reminded me of a story my father told. He was less than 70, but looked older because he drank and smoked too much. He and my mother were living in California. After she died, he stayed there a few weeks and then bought a bus pass and started out across the country to visit with me in Tennessee and my sister in Boston. Because the bus stations were downtown, he usually spent the night in a downtown hotel. At one stop, a young punk (his word) spotted him and began calling him "Pop" in the same tone that you described. He followed him for a block to the hotel, asking questions about what he had in his suit case, where he was going, and where he had been. All the while, calling him "Pop." Wisely, my father didn't respond, and when he got to the hotel he told the clerk what had happened. He asked the clerk to not give anybody his room number. In those days, hotels were not as careful as they are now.

I still don't understand what was going on, and I don't remember what city he was in, but I do remember that he was upset. I suppose I am telling you this to say that things like that will happen, but most people are not like that. I'm looking older every year, but I still go where I want to go without worrying. I wonder how much longer I can do that.

I'm sorry to hear about your grandfather and I admire you for making sacrifices for him. At some time in the future, you will be glad you did. My father is gone now. I hardly ever think of the times when he was sick and helpless, but I do remember the good times.
Howard