I met Fran at the YMCA in 2008. She was a spry, elderly lady who exercised on the recumbent bicycle several times a week. I wasn’t sure how old she was, and when I found out, I was shocked.
Fran was close to 80 at the time, a long road away from my tender age of 55. I was impressed. I gradually got to know her along with another elderly gentleman, and soon, we were all going out for coffee every Monday morning at Panera. I’d feast on my PowerBar while we all enjoyed Panera’s free refills.
Mondays were always spiced with convivial conversation and exchanging opinions on controversial topics. On one occasion, we even played with Fran’s Ouija board.
I was surprised that Fran was even fascinated by the supernatural. I thought topics like this were reserved for younger people, but with Fran, no topic was forbidden. She was always highly erudite; her mind was sharper than mine in many ways.
My wife and I moved to Los Angeles six years ago, but I vowed to continue my friendship with Fran. I needed my Fran fix. Fran was a shrewd coupon cutter from the Depression, so we often dined at El Pollo Loco, an inexpensive fast-food joint.
Despite her understated wealth, thriftiness was ingrained in her DNA. Thanks to her cost-cutting methods, Fran usually got us a great deal at the restaurant and took home most of the tasty leftovers. Fran seemed a little slower every year we saw her, but her brain was still as sharp as ever. She still managed her finances and remained independent regarding her medical appointments. She rarely solicited the help of others, preferring to do most daily tasks herself.
Her extensive reading and quick sense of humor have undoubtedly carried her forward over the years despite her mobility challenges, which resulted from her being a daredevil as a child. I recall Fran telling me how she often jumped to the ground from her neighbor’s rooftop based on a bet she had with a neighborhood kid.
She giggled as she told me about going to the nearby racetrack to try riding the horses. She also studied ballet and engaged in other forms of artistry. Because of all her athletic pursuits, things started catching up with her as she aged. I could identify with her because I was once highly athletic myself, and now my body parts have undergone some catastrophic changes.
She jokes about all her joints that have been replaced. We both claim to be into heavy metal. But her health challenges never daunted her intellectual pursuits. The computer became a necessity after her husband died and has continued to be her savior as her health challenges increased. She is a social advocate for numerous political causes that don’t necessarily align with mine, but we steer away from politics. We enjoy one another based on the things that we have in common.
Her strong sense of humor and keen listening skills have been a real inspiration; even when I’ve had severe health setbacks or family tragedies, my friend is always there with her ability to listen and provide guidance and wisdom.
Fran is 95 now, and although her body is slowing down, she remains independent. She still cooks, cleans, and goes to the market. She doesn’t drive that much anymore, but if somebody tried to take her driver’s license away, she’d retaliate like a rattlesnake. Don’t mess with Fran!
It’s people like Fran who keep me going. They inspire me to appreciate wherever you are in life and to savor the things you can still do.
It will be a sad day for me when she passes, but I don’t expect she will go anytime soon. She will fight with all her spunk to stay vibrant and relevant and remain a good friend to me.