Day 75
Well, everybody might not know your name but pretty much everybody knows mine. And I’m not talking about down at the local watering hole or pub or bar or saloon (hey, we are in Colorado – there are saloons!) … but at my neighborhood grocery store … Albertsons!
Yes … many (many) of the clerks, deli people, baggers, pharmacists, produce guys, baristas, and even some customers … know my name.
And when I move – I don’t know who will miss be missed more … me or them? I’m thinking them.
I started to go to the grocery store almost daily when Tim was sick. Six years ago (already!). We needed something from the pharmacy or from the health and wellness aisles or crackers or something else on a constant basis. So, I started going almost daily to pick up something.
Or sometimes I just needed … coffee. Starbucks is located in this wonderful store and I’d just go to get a daily fix of caffeine and a little pick me up from the not-so-fun daily routine of cancer and treatments and sadness.
And sometimes I didn’t need a product at all … I just needed cool and comfort and as that very, very hot summer wore on with Tim getting worse and worse I found solace and respite in the most unlikely of places … the grocery store.
People were friendly – we learned each other’s names. They made me laugh on days when there was not much to laugh about. They made me feel good. They cared.
And it was cool and good music would be playing and everything was orderly when my life was a chaotic mess and everything, above all else, was NORMAL … when my life was anything but.
I remember pushing my empty cart through the produce section randomly looking at people scrutinize one onion from the next or which bundle of broccoli to take home … wondering if that was the biggest decision they would have to face that day. Was life that easy for some people? I look back and I know I was upset with the couple who was arguing over which kind of coffee creamer to buy … seriously, I wanted to beat the crap out of both of them for being so picky and trivial when we were dealing with life and death issues on a daily, sometimes hourly, basis … but I craved their normalcy.
But above all else – above the deep need for that normalcy that was no longer ours and the almost jealous feelings I had, at times, when I’d see couples walking together choosing cereal (knowing I would never do that again with Tim) – I found solace and comfort and friendship.
I will miss this extended “family” tremendously. We share history and stories about our families and children. What foods are good and what was the oddest thing they checked out that day. Monopoly winnings and forgotten cat litter (that, more than once, I’ve left in my cart in the parking lot and have had to go back for). And we shared laughter. A lot of laughter and a lot of smiles and every once in a while a well needed hug.
The other day one of the bagger girls pulled me aside and gave me a bracelet she had made specifically for me as she knew I was moving – because I was her favorite customer. It’s a simple little black elastic band with red and white plastic beads strung on it. I’m wearing it proudly. I was and am so touched. Whether or not she tells everyone that they are her favorite customer, I do not know … but it doesn’t really matter … because she is my favorite bagger. Not only for her simple, innocent gift which touched my heart deeply but because she is part of the family of friends at that business … where (almost) everybody knows my name.