Miss Vera

Vera stood up from her rocking chair and walked to the white railing that edged the massive wrap-around porch at White Oak Manor. As far as assisted living facilities went, this place was top-notch, but these old coots were far too depressing for Miss Vera Washington of Birmingham, Alabama. She had lived far too long and done far too many things to think she would ever be content rocking the end of her life away on a porch next to droolers and ramblers. She was a pioneer in her day and she wasn’t about to give up on living just because she was 97 years old.

With a quick look around, Vera shuffled around to the side of the manor house as quickly as her shaky legs would take her. She reached inside the pocket of her dress and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up after retrieving the lighter she kept hidden in one of the large planters filled with begonias that lined the manor house porch.

“Oh, Miss Vera! You cain’t be out here smokin’! Don’t you know that stuff can kill you?” Sadie Wilson was a tall, thin nurse that was young enough to be Vera’s great-grandaughter. She was kind enough but the nonsense that girl always dribbled was enough to drive Vera insane.

Rolling her eyes, Vera pointed out the obvious. “Sadie, I’m 97 years old and I have smoked for the past 63 years. I don’t think I have anything to worry about.”

“Oh, fiddle faddle,” Sadie quipped with a dismissive wave of her hand. “You’ve got to be takin’ care of yo-self now more than ever, Miss Vera.”

Putting out her cigarette in the begonia pot, Vera turned to stare down young Sadie. “Listen here, little girl,” she started. “My skin is leather, my hair is gray, and my hands are all knotted up with the arthritis. I know I’m no beauty queen but I’m happy with who I am. I never loved a man but I sure had plenty a men that loved me. Since I ain’t never had no babies, I ain’t got family left to put up with me so you’re stuck with me here with all these old fogies, but don’t you be gettin’ any more ideas that I’m gonna let you keep bossin’ me around. No sir-eee. I don’t need no one to run my life. I didn’t take too well to people tellin’ me to sit in the back of the bus but I was young then and didn’t know no better. I didn’t take well to men folk tellin’ me what to do so I never married one. So don’t think for a second I’m gonna let you tell me to give up my smokes when it’s my own lungs I’m fillin’ up with the tar. If you don’t like it, you can go somewheres else.”

Shuffling back to her rocker, Miss Vera Washington sat herself down and smiled. All she ever wanted was to choose her own path. It’s what she had always done and it was what she was always going to do.