Whatever joy there is in this world
All comes from desiring others to be happy
And whatever suffering there is in this world
All comes from wanting pleasure for myself

I was pretty worn out this morning, watching Jody decline, and sensing that I’m losing the love of my life, at least on this physical plane.  I needed to get her some meds, plus we were low on groceries, so I headed off to Costco.

First, though, was Shoppers Home Health Care.  I was looking for absorbent underwear that held liquid better than the generic brand we’d tried.  As I trundled in, a woman greeted me with an all encompassing smile.  “I can tell a happy person the moment they open the door,” she said.  “Well,” I replied, smiling, “Maybe I’d better come in again.”  So I walked out and I walked in, putting on the grumpiest face I could find.  “I want service!”  “Doesn’t work, guy.  Your eyes give you away.”

Thank you, my new friend.  I’m so sorry that I can’t remember your name. I’ll find out next time.

So on to Costco.  As I sat by the snack bar, eating my decadent turkey and provolone sandwich, a familiar face was pushing her cart past me.  She looked.  I looked.  She smiled.  I smiled.  It was Julia, our hairstylist.  There hasn’t been any haircutting in the Kerr family for the past ten months, and I was so glad to see Julia.  We gave each other a gentle hug.  “I miss Jody so much, and I love both of you,” the words having trouble making their way past the tears.

Thank you, my old friend.  Someday you’ll be cutting my hair again.

Watching this was Joanne, a woman who sits at a kiosk, trying to sell furnaces.  I walked over and she came towards me with a hug posted special delivery.  “I read all of your e-mails and I think of you and Jody a lot.”  And we talked about how my lovely wife is doing.

Thank you, o standing-on-your-feet-at-all-times saleswoman who cares so much about a woman she’s never met.

The e-mails that Joanne mentioned are weekly updates about Jody.  I’ve been writing them since November, 2013 and there are about 300 addresses who receive them.  I figure that over seven hundred human beings are praying for a miracle.  So lovely.

I was just about to get up post-sandwich when Pen, one of the Costco employees, walks by me, touches my shoulder, and says “Hi, you.”  And hi back to you, Pen.

So many people to love