Martha was living in a run down apartment. The rent was high for such a run down place, but it was quite a bit cheaper than most of the rents. Between SSI and welfare, though, there was not enough to pay the rent, much less buy food. She rented out one room to help make ends meet. She had applied for food stamps, but she was denied. She was unable to explain to them how she could afford to pay her rent. If she told them about the roomer, then her welfare payment would be reduced. “Bureaucrats” she hissed. And gave up trying.
She could probably be described as a ‘feisty old bat’ without being far off the mark. She had a few friends. She didn’t want a lot of friends. She didn’t need a lot of friends. She was a misanthrope. But if you were her friend, you were her friend. I don’t why she decided to befriend me. She even surprised herself.
One of Martha’s hobbies was making doll pictures. Most of the supplies were cheap and easy to get; especially when MacGregor’s was still in town. I’d get her picture frames cheaply from the picture frame factory I was working in. A small piece of fabric, lace, dolls hair, plastic flowers and leaves, white cardboard, black paper (from a photo album), and watercolors. She made two different types: regular dolls, and brides. I preferred the ones with a bit more color, but Martha loved the brides the best. She gave me one of each. No one else ever got more than one. So I was honored.
When Martha was 90, her doctor had her put in a nursing home. I went to visit her almost every weekend for an hour or so. She died when she was 94. That was ten years ago, and the bride still hangs in a place of honor on my kitchen wall. I hung the bride because Martha preferred the brides. It’s been hanging there for twenty five years.
|
|