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