Presence, Security

Maybe a Disappointment (but Probably Not)

April 27, 2024

Photo by Redd F on Unsplash

I had a substitute teaching day on Friday. It rained just as I was about to bring 13-first and second graders in from their extra afternoon recess time. Extra recess time is a wonderful thing when you are a substitute teacher. Sometimes, extra recess even happens when it is not on the regular teacher’s official plan for the day.

My little town hosted our monthly Open Mic night this week. Normally, I would want to go. Normally, I would go! But at the end of my substitute teaching day and my long work week of doing massages, I was spent. I was tired. Other words for this? Fried. Burnt. Exhausted. Done. Cooked.

I had more massage work than usual this week. It was the kind of week where I packed my lunch in the morning, ate breakfast in the car on my way down the hill to work, and staggered back home after dinner time. Sometimes a day like that looks like a 9:45 am massage, an 11:00 am massage, a 1:00 pm massage, a 2:15 pm massage, and a 3:30 pm massage. Maybe a half hour table or chair massage from 4:45-5:15. Five hours of massage plus a little extra used to be tiring, but doable. This week? It was a little much.

It could be the fact that I am older than last year, and twelve years older than when I started working at the retreat center, and 24 years older than when I graduated from massage school. Could all that have something to do with it?

Anyway. A good friend of mine, one of my heart friends, politely excused herself from attending an event this week. She needed to go home after a long day of work, because she was prioritizing self-care and was simply exhausted. And it wasn’t like she was abandoning a responsibility, something that only she could do. Everything would go along just fine without her (although of course we missed her. She should  know that for sure!)

But it made me think this week.

You can do that?

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Daily Grace, Presence

A Better Story

April 20, 2024

Write a Better Story

(especially when I know nothing, which is honestly most of the time)

I dropped some bags off at Goodwill the other day. Our local Goodwill store accepts items at the rear of the store. There’s a door there and workers who wheel out big bins and hand out receipts. They also tell you when they do not want your items, which is necessary, I guess, but sometimes a little hurtful. They will not take clothes hangers. Lightbulbs. Even the not so terrible golf clubs that I was offering up the other day. Because the worker said, apologetically, that they had some in the store already that were in better shape than mine.

Anyway. At this Goodwill, you pull into a single file line, one car at a time, wait for the car in front of you to unload, then drive up and drop off your items. The car unloading in front of me was a newish SUV with a specialty license plate that said something like “Grammers,” which was a cutesie way of saying “Grandma,” I decided.

Grammer’s car was full of boxes and bags. The woman unloading that car did not look like a grandma. At all. She hefted the boxes and bags into the Goodwill’s wheelie bins. Then, as she neared the end of the load, she reached in and carefully pulled out a large doll. It was close to the size of a toddler boy. He was wearing overalls and had a fishing pole in his hand. He also had a straw hat that fell off when she took him out of the back of the SUV. She set the doll down on the pavement, carefully put his little hat back on his head, and drove away.

This ruined me.

I had an entire movie running through my head as I pulled into the loading zone to drop off my bag of linens (a gently used pink blanket that my daughter didn’t need anymore. Also some nice sheet sets, because how many sheet sets do you need when you only have one twin bed in your house? Really! You do not need five sets of twin sheets for one bed! And the golf clubs! But I had to take those back home, because apparently they were not up to Goodwill’s standards.)

The woman who gently (lovingly!) set down the doll with the straw hat was clearly too young to be a Grandma, so I figured that she was probably the Grandma’s granddaughter and Grandma had passed away so she had been delegated to drive Grammer’s car to Goodwill to unload the cherished possessions that nobody in the family wanted. Sad! Grandma loved that little fishing boy doll! It reminded her of her son! It reminded her of her youth! But nobody else had room for it. So away it went to the Goodwill.

That’s the story I made up.

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