Tuesday, 05 January 2010

That public face that I talked about yesterday, well, I put it to the test today. Not sure if I passed or failed.

Wal-Mart seemed as likely a candidate as any place since I can be both anonymous due to the size of the store or acknowledged due to the size of the region in which it's located. While looking for a humidifier filter, I heard my name. I looked up to see a former, non-traditional student of mine, who we'll call Ted. Ted asked how my holidays were and after my non-committal grunt and shrug, I inquired as to his health. Ted has been battling cancer for the last several years. We talked for awhile and said our "good-byes," and just as he was turning to walk away, he asked the question, but it wasn't the question I had been preparing myself to answer when out in public. I was confident I could maintain my composure when asked, "How are you doing?", but Ted's question threw me. He asked, "How's your mom?" Immediately the tears flooded my eyes, my voice caught in my throat, and I was reduced to head shaking and hand gesturing. Right there in the humidifer filter aisle, Mom's death was as fresh as if she had passed away yesterday. With tears in his eyes, Ted offered some words of comfort, at least the tone was comforting since I don't recall any of what he said at that point. We again parted, and I stood at the end-cap of the aisle searching my purse for a tissue. I remembered I was out of tissues when my hand rested upon one of Mom's handkerchiefs that I hadn't used at her funeral. Once again, even now she was there to give me what I needed.

So here's where I eat the proverbial crow. In yesterday's post, I was harping about people no longer inquiring about how things are going. Now today when someone did, I reverted back to the emotional wreck of four weeks ago. One step forward, two steps back. Calling this a grieving process is misleading. When I think of a process, I think of moving methodically from one step to the next in a very linear, logical fashion. But there's nothing linear or logical about emotions. I guess I have to accept that there will be good days and bad days and trust that the good will eventually outnumber the bad. There will continue to be relapses, even in the middle of Wal-Mart.

As I left the store, an elderly woman was sitting just inside the door w/ her purchases just where she had been when I arrived an hour earlier. I asked if I could drive her somewhere but instead she handed me a card and asked if I could contact her R.I.D.E.S. bus. As she attempted to thank me, the tears again began to sting the backs of my eyes. Good, Lord, now what? This woman didn't know me, asked no question. Was I really going to break down twice in Wal-Mart? I slammed my sunglasses on my face, bit my lip, and raced to my car only to find that I'd dropped my receipt in the entry and had to go back. This gave me the time to compose myself and allow the woman to thank me properly as was her due. I managed to stave off the waterworks for about a half-mile when it dawned on me. This woman was somebody's mother, and her children could feel at ease that even a stranger would take time to ask a question. Mom would be proud.