(It’s been a long and terrible day at work. I want to slam my head into the register. I have nobody in my line for a while until an elderly man walks up. He carefully places some items onto the belt: some bread, ice cream, a magazine, and two little candles. I take a deep breath to greet him.)

Me: “Hello, sir! How are you?”

Man: “I am doing very well. How about yourself, young lady?”

Me: “I am doing fine! Would you like paper or plastic?”

Man: “Plastic is just fine! Can you please be careful of these candles? They’re my wife’s favorites!”

Me: “Of course!”

(The transaction goes by just fine. He starts chatting with another customer and me.)

Man: “I remember coming in here with her. She’d pick out those candles, I’d accidentally drop them and break them, and she’d smack my arm and laugh. Sweet days. She was such a sweet lady.”

Me: “Oh… She’s…”

Man: “She’s been gone ten years, now. Sometimes I buy these candles for her, hoping to see her again to enjoy them. It hasn’t worked so far, but I won’t stop trying!”

(I finished his transaction with tears in my eyes, and wished him and the other customer well. That’s probably the most bittersweet thing I’ve ever heard.)

(I work in a local doctor’s surgery, running a clinic fixing hearing aids. I’m at home with my family when the doorbell rings. An elderly lady is standing outside.)

Elderly Lady: “Hello, are you the hearing aid lady?”

Me: “Yes…”

Elderly Lady: *hands me a small package* “The hospital posted me a new hearing aid mould, but I don’t know how to fit it. I didn’t want to wait for the clinic.”

Me: “How did you find me?”

Elderly Lady: “I saw you going home and I recognised you. Can you put my hearing aid together?”

Me: “Uh… sure.”

(I do it on the spot; it’s a ten-second job.)

Elderly Lady: “Thank you! Bye!”

Me: *speechless*

(This is a story from my grandmother. When she marries my grandfather, in the late 1940s, she asks him about all the foods he likes so she can make them for him. She asks him if he likes rice, and he says he does. So one meal, she makes chicken and rice.)

Grandad: “Rice? No potatoes?”

Nana: “But you said you liked rice!”

Grandad: “I meant rice pudding!”

(For the next sixty years she always made meat dishes with potatoes. After he died, she had rice with her chicken.)

(I am standing in line, and in front of me is an older couple. The couple have been complaining out loud the same thing over and over again: they should have more registers open, there should be more workers, the wait is so long, so on and so forth. I’m patient, and spend my time reading an ebook on my phone.)

Old Man: *suddenly, to me* “What time is it?”

Me: *I look down at my phone* “It’s 12.”

(The old man says nothing, still looking at me like he’s waiting for me to answer.)

Me: “Um… yeah, 12.” *I go back to reading*

Old Man: *turns back to his wife, mumbling* “Can’t even get off their phones…”

(After hearing them complain nonstop and now insulting me over nothing, I decide I have had enough.)

Me: “Oh, fine. Let me be more like you.” *I raise my voice dramatically* “OH, THESE LONG LINES! THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE! EVEN THOUGH IT’S BEEN MOVING STEADILY, I’D RATHER COMPLAIN OUT LOUD FOR EVERYONE TO HEAR!”

(Pause.)

Me: “Nah, that was boring. I prefer reading my book.” *goes back to phone*

(The old couple stopped complaining after that.)

(I’m volunteering at a clinic, currently working in administration. I handle calls and schedule appointments. It has been raining throughout the whole month, so there are puddles outside. An elderly couple around their 70s come out from their appointment.)

Husband: *to his wife* “Let me move the car so you won’t walk in a puddle.”

Wife: “No, it’s all right. Just unlock the door.”

Husband: “Fine. If you fall, it’s not my fault.”

Wife: “Don’t worry; I can swim.” *walks out the door*