On one particular day, I observed a very elderly lady with a walker on the sidewalk. I drove past her and stopped at the signal on the corner. Looking into my rearview mirror, I saw her standing in the exact same spot. I assumed that she lived in one of the houses directly behind the sidewalk where she stood, but as I watched, she didn't move. I waited to see if she would proceed up the walkway to one of the houses, but she did not. I became concerned that she might have become disoriented, confused or lost. The notion literally overcame any other explanation I might have as I rationalized her failure to move.

As the light became green, I turned left. Yet, I felt compelled to pull over to the curb. I ran across a busy thoroughfare and down the sidewalk onto the other side of the street. There I saw her occupying the same spot on the sidewalk. Being as inconspicuous as possible, I continued to watch for a number of minutes and saw her making no appreciable effort to move in any direction. She appeared to be simply looking at the scenery.

Finally, I began to walk toward her like someone merely out for a stroll, so I wouldn't alarm her.

As I approached, she noticed me, and I observed a very lovely, toothless smile. I was instantaneously enraptured. She appeared to be quite old and such a tiny lady. I said, "Hi," and asked if she was all right; if she was in need of help or if she was lost.

She said that she lived a few houses down. Nevertheless, I was still concerned about leaving her, until I was certain that she did, indeed, have her bearings. As I watched her sidle up the walkway of the house where she lived, I engaged her in conversation with the intention of escorting her home, like any gentleman would do for a damsel in distress. Then I told her my name and asked for hers.

"Ida, like in Idaho," was her response, with an engaging toothless smile. Then she quickly stated with ardor, "I'm 96 years old!"

I said, "No!" and she said, "Yes," with a look as if she could not believe it herself. When we arrived at the house where she lived, I discovered it was home to Ida and five other seniors.

A week passed, and I drove up and down that particular block just as I had a thousand times prior to our meeting, but did not see her again. Hopelessly lovesick, I could not stay away, and now visit just regularly enough as to not make a nuisance of myself.

I've learned that Ida has a daughter and two sons, whom she calls regularly on her cell phone. On one occasion, she called her son with me present, to wish him a happy birthday, as I and Bill, another resident of the house, sang happy birthday to him over the phone, while Ida played the accompaniment on her piano.

Ida loves to read and stay in touch with current issues. She is also very health conscious, taking short walks and keeping to a vegetarian diet. She possesses an intellect that is more than a challenge for yours truly, and she celebrated her 97th birthday on April 15.

From this experience, the one lesson I have learned is not to take anything for granted. When first seeing and greeting an older person, it is easy to make a staid set of assumptions. Just because someone is a little older does not necessarily mean that they do not still possess a mental acuity equal to our own or even to surpass it.

Willow Glen resident Gene Meyers moved back into the community with his mother in 1995 to be closer to his sister. Meyers was his mother's primary caregiver prior to her death. Through that experience he developed an affinity for the elderly. Gene Meyers can be reached at Gmsan jose@aol.com.