Skip to main content

The Lowes lady who made my day

I believe people come in and out of our lives for a reason, whether they step into your path and stay for a lifetime or a few years. Or maybe only for a college semester or a week at summer camp, or for just two days at a professional seminar -- or even for three minutes at a checkout counter. Sometimes you just need to pay attention.

Today I had one of those checkout counter experiences. I realized this morning that I'm in my 30th week of this pregnancy. Just 10 weeks left until Baby DeeDee makes his/her appearance. Which, at the pace my life has gone this past year, might as well be 10 minutes. And although I'm excited to meet this little gift, I've spent most of this past, oh, 25 weeks feeling incredibly anxious about the pregnancy and our new addition. Why would we upset the happy balance we have here in our family? Will Sweet Boy love and adore his younger sibling, or will he envy and dislike him/her? How will I be able to give my attention to two children, when one sucks up so much of my waking time? Will my marriage turn rocky right when we seem to have hit such a good groove? On and on and on my mind reels through these anxieties.

Anyway, this morning after some deep breaths to get through the 30-week-realization panic, Big Daddy and I went to Lowes to buy paint for the nursery. (Gorgeous dusky amethyst paint, by the way -- a color I can't wait to surround myself and my baby in.) The checkout woman, a middle-aged black woman with a friendly smile and orange-brown braids, commented on the paint color, how it was so soothing and soft. I mentioned it was for our new baby's nursery, and she got all sorts of excited about the idea of a new baby -- she seemed more thrilled than some of our family. She asked about my other children, and I told her about Sweet Boy, that he's 4-and-a-half and how we thought for a long time that he'd be an Only. And for some reason, this Lowes checkout lady's response put all my earlier oh-my-god-we're-having-a-baby-imminently anxiety to rest:

"Oh, how perfect! That's the perfect age difference! He's going to be a big brother who knows how to show love. And you let him have his babyhood, gave him time to be the one and only -- but now you can give this baby undivided attention, too, when big brother goes to school. Perfect timing, mama. You all are gonna be just fine, just beautiful."

So there I was, standing in the checkout line at Lowes, smiling and nodding and feeling a bit choked up at this stranger's effusive show of happiness and support for me and my family. Maybe she wasn't placed in my path by God or the universe or any higher power; perhaps I was simply looking for reassurance from any source I could find. Regardless of how or why, this little light at Lowes was spot-on today.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Ottomania!

I've been spending a lot of time thinking about ottomans. A ridiculous amount of time, actually, given the number of other things I truly should focus my thoughts on. I find, though, that when the world outside gets scary (and scary is a truly relative term these days) I turn to online shopping for things I don't really need. Actually, it's more like online browsing; I rarely purchase. I spend hours searching for, oh, erasable colored gel pens or standing desks or all-natural curly-hair gel or the perfect black sweater. (Yes, these are things I've fixated on over this winter; I still haven't clicked "buy" nor settled on any of them.) This week, it's ottomans. By the way, my girl  BrenĂ©  Brown would call this behavior numbing . I'm okay with that. Because online browsing is way less detrimental (so far) than chain smoking, which is what I'd really like to do when the world is scary. It's a way to escape, to daydream, to focus on things tha...

Why I Occupy

I marched in the Occupy Philly protest last Saturday, and I've been trying to find the words to describe it all week. People who know me look puzzled when I tell them, and I've been trying to explain why this movement has taken root in my heart. Last Saturday, for a few brief hours, I stood up to the anxiety, anger, frustration, and fear that has gripped me for the last few years. For a few brief hours, I marched with people who want better for me and you and this entire country, people who may be ideologically different but stand together because they believe there’s still hope for this democracy, that there’s still a chance that our government will take action for the people and not for the corporations that fund their campaigns. There’s a perception that the Occupy Wall Street movement is simply a mob of young, disenfranchised 20-somethings who have nothing better to do than sleep on city sidewalks to disrupt the lives of those of us with jobs. Revolutions are ...

Grace happens

Today Honey's roommate in room 364 at Maine Medical Center was discharged. Some other day I'll tell you about why Honey is in the hospital again, but this story is about the roommate because it's way more interesting. Let's call him Elton, because all I really know about him is he plays guitar in an Elton John tribute band and he's originally from the very northern part of England, bordering Scotland. (Or as Honey described it, "that place in England where the Roman Empire decided, nope, those Celts are crazy, and put up a wall.") Elton was in room 364 before Honey arrived, and what struck me immediately, besides his delightful accent and soothing Liam-Neeson-esque voice, was his gentle, good-natured manner. He was going through heck from a botched surgery and compartment syndrome - pain and gore and fear of losing the use of his dominant hand - yet he spoke kindly and softly to every person who came into his room. Every time a nurse walked in, Elton gre...