Champagne bottle shaken vigorously! A metaphor tailor made for my emotions at the moment. In previous posts I referenced floodgates opening, dams bursting– you get the idea. With the immense changes in my life and the gratitude overflowing, I long for those who would share my excitement and joy. My nearest and dearest mean the world to me. Yet there are those I’ve loved and lost who aren’t experiencing this in real time…and that hurts.
Reno. Bessy. Shay. Angelica. I’m ashamed to admit that I haven’t been able to write about those losses yet. It’s a blessing and a curse, compartmentalizing the broken pieces of my heart. For lack of better terms it’s almost as if I’m in denial. Not since Bosi have I been able to explore grief on this blog. Sooner or later I’ll have to face the music. In a bizarre coping mechanism I tuck them out of the active spotlight. Out of state. Off the grid. Vacationing perhaps? Where they are I’m not certain. Anything is better than death.
Just when I became a whiz with the scanner gadget à la ClickList, Kroger shuffled it up on me. The powers that be asked if I’d be willing to train in a different department to make things easier for a crew that was seriously short-staffed. Of course I said yes. Yours truly now does double duty as an attendant at the Fuel Center. It’s a drastic departure from constant movement of my previous post– sedentary and slow at times– but I appreciate the fact that I’m isolated on my ‘island’ and can really work my customer service. Pros and cons exist for both positions. As far as I know I’m providing relief while a fellow Fuel Center associate finishes up her maternity leave….but I’ll work wherever they have me. My first month at Kroger was a resounding success.
Two weeks from now I embark on the Neshoba women’s retreat. Accurately described as Women of Wisdom [WOW], this weekend stirs my soul. It’s been almost a decade since the last time I went and I’m still in awe. A glance at the Saturday schedule– I will be spending the weekend there– makes it abundantly clear why these ladies are my people.
Can. Not. Wait.
Gazing towards the heavens as I sat in the back of Big Lacy’s truck in Talladega, a vibration startled me out of my reverie. Looking down at my phone I saw it was Stuart. Neither one of us were in our finest form that night. We spoke a few minutes and then got disconnected. That was several years ago. I haven’t heard from him since.
I tried repeatedly to call his phone number— quite often at first. Eventually it was down to once a month. And then I stopped altogether. Based on our collective lifestyles I assumed the worst.
Imagine my surprise when he sent me a friend request last week! I literally cried tears of joy. He’s living in Ohio and doing better than I ever could have expected. He’s been sober for over a year and handles men’s intake at his local Salvation Army. Stuart, I love you and I am so proud of you! I doubt you could tell while we were catching up on the phone but I had tears in my eyes the entire time. Bur for the grace of god there go I….
With infinite love, gratitude, and respect,