This is a story from the pages of my life, in those innocent days my husband and I moved to a suburb south Philadelphia for work. As we said goodbye to our friends who were like family, I worried how the Philadelphia area would accept me. I was a brave girl from a cosmopolitan city back home, but still not used to the modern western culture.
As the city embraced both of us and we started living the true Philadelphia spirit, the food started showing where it would. I blamed that year’s brutal winter storms for not allowing me to walk, a lame excuse my office buddy teased. The reality was to get indoors for more movement and the lazy me left for a search. Close to where I live, at the corner of a strip mall, I enrolled myself in a 30-minute gym.
It was affordable and I was more than happy because everyone was acceptable of each other and mindful about the physical goal we all had. There were multiple workout machines lined up and constant music going on with a voice saying, “Change,” to go to next machine. It was like a little merry-go-round, except this was a good one for those tight muscles needing attention. As I started, I thought someone was trying to look at me through her glasses with a funny chuckle saying, “Hey, you.” I said hello and she opened her mouth for a big “Hi.” “I am Thelma, and I am the oldest person here.” The whole gym laughed and I felt relaxed. What a way to introduce herself. “I am getting old, too. I cannot walk like before.” “Well, you are not from here, so this is cold for you, girl.” I smiled tried to focus on my first day.
I got used to the gym routine and got formal introductions to some other members. They were all nice, but Thelma made a big impression on me. She wanted to talk to me; her problem was my name. We tried at first and finally I said, like I always do, “Call me Apps. My engineering friends used to call me Apps and I miss that.” With a big aww, she said, “ Wait a minute, you are an engineer? You are probably the first one of its kind here. I will call you Apps.”
A retired single mom of two and a widow, Thelma was my first close Black American friend. Slightly shorter and plump for her age, her laugh was unique. She would just show her predominantly white teeth and no voice to the laugh. It was just like “Say cheese” or “aww,” not making a sound. To that, her reply would be, “I never have to go a dentist to get them white. I am just black.” She was a true person to tell me, “You are fine. I love your appearance in the gym. You are the first one of your kind, Apps.” I did not know what she meant, but someone else helped me realize that she was talking about persons of color. That day, I realized that she was the only Black woman there. I wanted to know her more.
We got so used to each other that if she was to miss a day or two, she let me know the day before and reminded me not to miss my gym time. According to her, the younger generation like me should work out every day. I asked, “What do old people do?” Her standard answer would be, “They go to boardwalk.” This would make the whole gym laugh, which confused me. Finally, I said one day, “Hey Thelma, I want to go to boardwalk. I need to see the East Coast.” She became shy. Immediately, help was provided by other members. Occasionally (in her words “once in six months, well I did not count”), Thelma goes to Atlantic City; her favorite place to go was “The Taj.” “Is that why you wanted to talk to me about India?” She nodded. I clarified to her that I am a coastal Indian person with no connection to Taj and we bursted. It was so much fun to get a unique connection. She insisted I not gamble and I kept that promise as I never had that interest. I promised I would walk on the true boardwalk with only my husband’s hand in my hand. I think she was worried about some kind of a cultural change that might spoil us.
Time came when I reached my goal per the gym standard and the owner announced it to all. That was the day I asked Thelma if we can go to the nearby IHOP for a little celebration. She said a strong “No” and said they would not let her in. I did not understand what it meant, but I insisted. We went anyway and I felt everything was normal. We waited patiently until the food arrived and I realized she did not touch her food until I was halfway through. Her eyes were warm and I understood the meaning of what it means: “They don’t let me in.” I said I will not make her pay if she does not eat and, suddenly, we were normal. We laughed so hard on something that the whole restaurant looked at me. A few servers knew me so they teased me about where my husband was. Thelma announced “Apps can get friends, too.” Surprisingly, we enjoyed everything about going out to breakfast, but we never repeated it. It was very special day for both of us.
She kept in contact as much as she could. The time came for me to take a break from going to the gym. I announced my exit at the gym, first to Thelma. I could see tears in her eyes, although she tried to fake a laugh. I was in tears, too, but I could not show it to her. I wanted her to visit me so that we could keep in touch and she could come anytime. She said yes immediately and, after the workout, I took her home.
We discussed personal things and I realized Thelma was never invited to that neighborhood, as well. I told her we get all kinds of kids for Halloween and I never saw it that way. That’s when she said something to me the very first time, “I am too old.” I don’t think she was old. She was retired, but just from the welfare work she did all her life. I could know so much about the work that could mean so much for rest of the world. Quietly, she mentioned to me hearing some of my background, “Apps, you should work for the government.” I laughed and said to her, “I don’t think they will even look at my application.” She kept quiet.
How she knew back then, I do not know. In fact, I asked if she used to be HR. She insisted that I need to take a work break whenever we decide to have kids. She adored our family pictures. It was a big approval in those days when smartphones were still in labs.
I miss Thelma randomly when I make new contacts. During the 2020 pandemic, I felt like I needed to know if Thelma is exercising as casinos were closed. I am sure she did. Looking back, I can truly say she was my guru back then for introducing me to a whole different world and letting me in. Thanks, Thelma.