Order please?

I'm at the grocery store. Ahead of me in the checkout line is an older man, along with his partner, an older woman. As the gentleman patiently counts the notes and coins to hand over to the cashier, their groceries are bagged. I notice the young man behind the counter tie a firm knot on one of the plastic bags. He hands it over to the old lady holding her cart, her snow white hair impeccably in place. The knot is firm, much too firm. He probably tied it that tight to make sure that nothing inside spilled out. He probably did it with the good intention of avoiding the trouble that the older couple would have handling such a spill. But what if the old lady was arthritic, and has trouble untying the knot? Would she be frustrated that she could not even open a bag of grocery?

Such little dilemmas run through my mind whenever I see older people. Should I run out and open the door for them, or would they think it a loss of dignity? I was fortunate enough to grow up in a home where my grandparents were the heads of the family. My grandfather was a proud and independent man, and my grandmother was, well, stubborn. As they grew older, I saw how difficult it was for them to receive any form of unsolicited help. Actions out of pity or indicating dependence were usually not tolerated, or when necessary, borne with grit teeth. We naturally waited until we were asked to do something, because then, you see, we were following orders.

So to all the handsome grandfathers, and lovely grandmothers, may I take your order?