“P-Pardon me?” The question seemed out of place, and yet it was asked so nonchalantly that I couldn’t think it was a mistake. The lady walking in front of me was easily 70, maybe 80 years old, it felt wrong to call her out on it.

She turned as we stood in her living room, covered in all sorts of collection figures, all very clean and neatly displayed. A bit of amusement was drawn on her face. “Was this your first time visiting? Sorry, my memory is not what it used to be, but the question stands. How much “thyme” do you need?” She smirked at the word thyme, making her giggle in a rather innocent way.

This melted my heart, and at the same time made it ache for her. It worried me that she could be too old to be living on her own. I decided to play along and answer her question in a fitting manner.

“Oh, just a few days is enough, I could use those to help you meet the rest of the neighborhood and maybe mow your lawn…?” As the words drifted out of my mouth, the room felt different, everything was already still and yet it was like the air itself stopped moving. The lady looked at me a bit perplexed, the amusement replaced with confusion, and then joy, the kind of joy only a grandmother would show from seeing her grandchildren.

“You’d do that for me? Oh that sounds wonderful! No one has ever offered to help me when I gave them ‘thyme’.” Her excitement felt like a reward in and of itself, so I couldn’t bring myself to stop pretending. Maybe I wasn’t pretending? Either way, she seemed really thankful for my offer, so I propped my arm, and she held it graciously. “And how many neighbors are there? By the way, you don’t have to worry about the lawn, my children will be here tomorrow to help me with that. You can take those extra days you want all for yourself.” I almost forgot about it but after she held my arm, that stillness in the room faded, and everything somehow went back to normal. It was maybe something minuscule but it registered in my head as she and I walked out of her house, on that sunny afternoon.