it was a sequence of events that led to the heaviness in my chest today. and a feeling that i can usually shake, was unshakable. perhaps it was the surfacing realization that relationships don’t always turn out the way we hope or that good memories don’t redeem the bad ones. maybe it is the theme in my life that slowly people are slipping away and i can’t do anything to change that or change them. so when sam got home i left. i did what all moms do when they need a break, a chance to breathe, or zone out and not feel guilty… i went to the grocery store. i just needed eggs. i walked by the carts and baskets because i just needed eggs. and there i was walking up and down the isles slowly accumulating more and more items: tomatoes, mac n’ cheese, 2 jars of spaghetti sauce, 3 cans of beans, and my eggs. i can do this. i don’t need a basket, i’m good. and with cans of beans slipping out of my hands, aimlessly looking for some fresh salsa, and people giving me odd looks, i hear a voice. he says, “m’am, here is a basket. so your eggs don’t break.”
i say, “thank you,” turn and wipe the tears from my eyes.
sometimes others see us falling apart better than when we can see it ourselves.
i suppose the kindness of this stranger pierced something deep inside of me…that i didn’t just need eggs, but i needed something more, help. help to process the stickiness from the day. help to let go of a few unwelcome memories that run like flash cards through my brain. and help in understanding what all those years meant. i go through life just ‘trying to make it.’ i like surviving, pushing myself, and sprinting really hard at the end of a run (wait, i don’t run. but if i did i am pretty sure i would do this, right?) carrying on… then a man at the grocery store hands me a basket and i fall apart.
sometimes i forget that i need to ask for help. well, maybe i don’t forget, i just have a hard time asking.
thank you mr. stranger at vons. my eggs arrived home safely.