“I’m not going to vacuum ’til Sears makes one you can ride on.” ― Roseanne Barr
Today neither my brother or his wife were picking up their phones. Nor were they responding to any of my emails from the past few days.
This helps prove my theory that it has come to the point where people see my name in the caller id or in their email inbox and let’s just say they are not necessarily in a rush to answer.
I don’t blame them.
This time my coffee supply was running low and I was out of vegetables of all kinds, including frozen. The last time my sister-in-law and I went to the grocery store was almost two weeks ago. She had mentioned if I wanted to go again to let her know. Last time was a quick trip on a sunny Saturday afternoon. We filled the cart with two separate piles of food, hers and then mine. When we walked into the store a friendly man that works at Trader Joe’s walked up to me and asked if I would be interested in using one of their motorized wheel chairs.
‘It has a big basket!’ Friendly Man at Trader Joe’s said to me.
I looked at him and scoffed. In my defense the scoffing was truly uncontrollable. ‘Me? Nooooo. I’m good. I do NOT need to use one of those.’
‘Why not?’ my sister-in-law asked. ‘It could be fun!’ She’s an open and relaxed individual, incredibly kind. Her intention was genuine. But what everyone failed to realize, including myself, is that I had not yet graduated from Level 1 of the Kübler-Ross model. Lovely Level 1. Denial. How sweet it is.
‘Seriously, I’m good. But thanks,’ I said to the friendly Trader Joe’s man and my sister-in-law and the entire store as a whole if anyone was listening.
Fast forward 2 weeks and I’m trying desperately to get back to Trader Joe’s. I can drive there and park easily enough especially with my new handicap tag.
But it’s pushing the grocery cart and actually grabbing hold of and safely depositing the groceries into the cart where I would really fall short. Not to mention getting the grocery bags into my car, and once home, UP THE STAIRS.
Today I was dreading the idea of getting home and making it up the stairs to an apartment devoid of any good food. It was too much to bear. My co-worker Tammy, the mom of the office, stepped in.
‘Mare,’ Tammy said, ‘I’ll go to Trader Joe’s with you, it will be fun! Let’s put that new handicap tag to work.’
‘Really?’ I asked.
‘That parking lot is always a mess anyway. I’ll be ready to leave in 5. Is that good for you?’ She confirmed.
How I love Tammy. If anyone ever had a full plate, it would be her, with 4 daughters and a father-in-law living at home and a job soon to be sun-setted just like me.
‘It’ll be fun!’ she said again.
There are no words to convey how nice it is when the person that is helping you shows up and somehow has you believing that it is you that is helping them.
Somehow this person is capable of erasing the guilt and shame you feel in asking for help. They meet you eye to eye and establish you as peers once more.
If you’ve ever been to Trader Joe’s you know standing in the check-out line is the best part. There are so many undiscovered goodies that await you.
Today I found this lovely, lovely hand lotion.
‘Hand lotion’ was originally on my Target List. But I can now delightfully delete it as this one from Trader Joe’s is divine. The smell is subtle and cinnamon-ey. My hands feel smooth and soft.
Ah, the Target List. I wonder who will not pick up their phone tomorrow.