Walking with The Walker
Wintry months have me meandering indoors at the University Mall in South Burlington, VT. Morning crew starts at 8:30 a.m. when only the IHop restaurant is open. We are quiet and determined with our walkers, canes and shuffling gaits. Regulars acknowledge each other. We are on task in our forward momentum.
After a lap or two, some sit and join their coffee klatch. Others soldier on. Even with my Ferrari stickers, me and my walker are about the slowest. I am passed again and again as I do three rounds. A few determined shop owners get their steps in before start of business.
Professional service folks exercising with nonverbal clients join the fray, as do some fashionistas rolling in their wheelchairs who settle in the food court. People who seem to be unhoused wash up and use the facilities, and then linger on benches to stay warm.
As we continue to circle, administrators do daily walk-throughs and security benignly strolls. Retailers raise grates and open doors while taking out garbage and restocking. Special events teams set up tables and prepare temporary displays all before the public arrives.
Late afternoons are quite different. Unsteady walkers dodge teenagers paying attention to themselves and their phones. Girls with their off-shoulder sweaters and impossibly tiny shopping bags have so much more game than unfocused boy packs. A few couples tentatively hold hands.
One man carries a teddy bear on his walks between stopping at both coffee shops at opposite ends. He never initiates contact but warmly smiles when greeted. I marvel at trans individuals growing more assuredly into being in this public space—flowing granny dresses for the young and miniskirts for bewigged boomers.
Weekends, during business hours, are family fests. Moms set the itineraries, with dads and kids in tow. Grandparents put little ones on the mini carousels, swings and train. Birthdays are celebrated. Gamers line up for competition. Even miniature golf is played. It can be a bit of bumper cars for me.
Holiday pop-up shops are gone, but free tax helpers have taken their place. They too will season out soon. Amid all the economic churn, it is reassuring how many stores survive. I wave to a few Kiosk operators and worry when they close even for a short vacation.
Friends sometimes accompany me. I find sauntering allows for freer conversations, although I prefer walking alone. My snail pace is constant, there is no second gear. To keep it fresh, I change directions, layer in shortcuts, even add store extensions into the routine. Occasionally I count steps in one of my three loops to gauge consistency.
Mostly, I feel invisible in my circumambulations—no one pays attention to an old man using a walker. No bully pulpit here. I am caught up short at how difficult it is for me to observe without judgment. I so often want to give unsolicited advice. A little mouth yoga (smiling) and breathing quiets my all too busy mind.
Warmer temperatures will soon invite me to stroll outdoors to experience spring and listen to the birds. Here I encounter joggers, dogs, parents pushing strollers and walking neighbors. I look forward to greeting them; we made it through the winter!
Of course, I will still have rain dates with my mall family.
