As I was on the bus

I had a very interesting conversation yesterday. 

Helped into her seat, Marge sat next to me and when the engine roared awake, she broke the ice by whispering to me, "I am only 93 years old.'     

Turns out that Marge is celebrating Christmas here. Been in the country for 7 months now and living in Kl with her children. 

She busted her legs when she was involved in a tragic car accident. So she gets around in a walker and yet STILL takes the bus from The Curve to the LRT station. Of course her daughter helps her about but I have a sense that she is more anxious than her mom. The grand dame seems to be enjoying herself. 

We talked about fake snow. And real snow. (She grew up in Missouri). And how in her youth she was involved in all kinda of sports. And her last foray was bowling at Times Square last week. She was a certified bowling instructor and a 23 time gold winner of the Senior Olympics.  

We talked about lessons her daddy taught her on how to save and how her savings have taken her from Houston to England to Japan.  

And she is 93 and she talks about using her  Internet phone to speak to folks back home. She says how her friends refuse to join her gallivanting across the globe because they are tired. To which she replies," Yeah, so am I. So lets go."  

She is like sunshine, with short sleeves and a foldable walker.