I did a 98 year old lady’s nails today. I am the youngest technician here. A little old lady and a kid with a head if crazy hair. Big contrast. I thought that she wouldn’t let me work on her, but she was more than happy. She told me she want red nails and a design on every finger. Everything was ordinary and blah blah. By the time I finished the second index finger, with her best effort, she shakily leaned her head in over the table and whispered to me, “Have you ever fallen in love?” and I was taken back and said, “Maybe.” She said her husband died recently. She asked me if I know how old she is and I told her 98 and she said, “Nooooo. I am… I.. Am… … 68!” I acted convinced. She said she misses her husband. She cry all the time about him. She carries his picture around everywhere with her. I asked her how long has it been and she said a year. Her daughter who was sitting beside her shook her head quietly. Something in me tells me that it’s actually been decades, and she just lost track of time. I listened to her talk to me. She asked me how do I make it stop. How do I stop hurting. She says that she misses him and she can’t stop. They have never fought before and she feels so alone now like she lost her best friend. I told her that I don’t know. I’ve never had a husband. She started getting teary and she said that she was not allowed to be there when he was buried because they was afraid that she’d throw herself into the hole with him. She kind of laughed. I took my hands off the tip of her finger and I held her by her palm. I said to her, “It is okay to miss someone. It is okay to hurt. It’s a sign that he is in heaven, knocking at your heart. Keeping it pumping so you can live to enjoy stuff like getting you nails done. I bet you that when you go to heaven to see him, you won’t have the chance of doing your nails anymore. Because trust me, all Vietnamese people are going to hell.” she bursted out laughing and said, “I’ll give up pretty nails to see him again. But you are right. The time will come.”

It made me really sad. I love old people. I don’t know if I was sad for her, or sad because I’m afraid of losing the person I love like that. Or sad because I’ll never be able to find someone who love me enough to throw herself in a hole and give up her pretty nails for me.