The other day I was out shopping with my mum. Whilst walking out of one of the shops, a few people gave me a dirty look. I didn't know what that was for, because I hadn't even been looking at them. I looked myself up and down to see if it was because something was wrong with my clothes, but I didn't notice anything. Then it dawned on me: it was what I was carrying. My mum had heavy bags, and I was carrying much lighter ones. I felt like a jerk.
It didn't take the dirty looks to make me feel like a bad person. I had always known how wrong it looked that an older person is carrying heavy bags whilst the young person they're with is carrying very light bags. I felt guilty about it for a long time, because it's really not fair to my mum. And I don't want it to be like that: I want to be able to carry the really heavy things. Noticing these things by myself is guilt enough, but adding people staring is guilt to the infinite level.
And then there's my mother: the woman who refuses to let me carry heavy objects. She'll always grab what's heavy and tell me to take what's left. And she doesn't care what people think- I wish I had that thick skin. Sometimes I'll tell her that I feel guilty since I'm the young one and I'm supposed to take the large bags and she waves it away and says, "Elizabeth, I'd rather you not be in pain."
Honestly, my mum is pretty awesome.