Cooties, No Touch Backs

When I was a kid, we used to play this game where someone would suddenly tap another person and shout, "Cooties, no touch backs." The kid who'd been tapped had cooties--something you didn't want--until she managed to tap someone else and pass the cooties on. Most of us really didn't have cooties; those who did were either from poor neighborhoods or from the orphanage.

I remembered this game the other day when I took an elderly friend to an annual retirement banquet. She has dementia, a form of cooties--I realized--for the older, well-to-do set. For as we mingled during the social hour, I watched old friends and neighbors sidle out of her way or make wide circles around us to avoid having to speak. She didn't notice, of course, because she doesn't remember most of them. Nonethless, she still welcomes a kind smile and a friendly reminder of her past.

Is it really that hard to greet an old friend?

I guess it is. I guess it's too frightening to realize where we might end up. It's easier and safer to look away and tap someone else: "Cooties, no touch backs."