When someone tried to move her wheelchair from the window, Glenda would start crying. Her hands would grab the wheels and she would move back to the window facing the bus stop. Her caretaker would ask why that window was so important. She always replied “I’m waiting for someone.” “Who are you waiting for?,” but Glenda was no longer paying attention. The next bus had arrived and she was busy looking for that someone she was expecting.
One day, after arriving home from a doctor’s appointment, the old woman positioned herself in her usual place.“Glenda, stop! Your friends need you but all you do is sit there all day! Why can’t you understand that whomever you are waiting for is never coming? You heard the doctor. There is not much time left. Your family should remember you as someone who cared about them, not as a dying old lady sitting by the window!” The caretaker sat next to Glenda’s chair, tears of frustration forming in her eyes. She felt sorry for Glenda. She wanted to help but didn’t know how. “This bus stop is where I met him. I promised him I’d wait” Glenda said quietly. The caretaker looked up. “Met who? Who did you promise to wait for?”
“It was a lovely morning about 70 years ago. I had just turned nineteen. I was leaving for school when I glanced out the open window to see if the bus was approaching. That’s when I saw him. He was so elegant, so handsome. I gathered my things and rushed out, hoping to catch his eye. I was quite confident back then. While we were waiting, I happened to drop my handkerchief. Being a gentleman, he picked it up for me, but noticing that it had gotten dirty he offered his instead. He promised to bring mine back the next day. I objected. I didn’t mind the dirt, yet he insisted. At last, the bus came. I had forgotten my bus fare, and again the lovely gentleman had saved me, paying for my ride as well. Ashamed, I told him I was indebted to him. He smiled a dazzling smile. “If you would do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner say, tomorrow at 7, your debt would be nonexistent.” For some reason, I accepted.
“That’s how it started. Since then, we would see each other every morning at the bus stop. He would walk me to school, being that his academy was merely two stops away from mine. A few times a week we would go out for dinner, or movies. Sometimes, on planned nights, I would leave the window open to my room. He would come at the bus stop and whistle and I would sneak out the window. We would sit at the stop and look at the stars, talking about what we wanted to do with our lives. Five months later, he told me his father had been promoted and that his family had to move. That night when he came to the bus stop, I opened the window and let him in. We fell asleep holding each other. He left early morning, promising that he would come back. In turn I promised I would wait for him by this bus stop.”
The caretaker knew that no matter what she said, Glenda would never give up waiting. She tried to respect the old woman’s last wish, hoping against hope that the man would return. But he never did. A week later, Glenda passed away, sitting in her wheelchair, waiting for her lost love.
