Have you ever been to a Whole Foods around lunch time? It’s crowded AF.
Today I went for lunch. They always have delicious hot food that is far too expensive. Swimming upstream, I finally paid for my food. I went to sit down and there were literally no open spots. There were tables scattered with random people eating alone. I glanced around the eating area and without much thought asked a beautiful girl my age if I could sit across from her. She nodded yes and we went on with our business.
She began talking to the woman next to her with the new baby. “You have such a beautiful baby,” she said. “She looks just like you. Her eyes do. You have beautiful eyes.” The mom sheepishly thanked her, unsure if she was being truthful or not. She was.
The young fit mom left and I was curious. She talked like me, with candor and compassion. Her curly dark hair, her dark hazel eyes flecked with gold; she was stunning. I started a conversation. Her name was Amanda. She just moved home from Salt Lake City. She told me of her mother. She was sick with cancer; she was going to pass any day now. I asked her how she was doing. She smiled and said she was okay, that she felt different about death, that her mom had fought a long, tough fight. She had accepted her mom dying. She spoke about memories with her mom. As I listened, my heartbeat slowed, beating a long steady pulse. I would be heartbroken if I lost my mother, I thought. She looked at me, locked eyes and apologized for the heaviness. I smiled and told her I thought it was beautiful that she has the ability to speak her feelings and that many people are unable to. I thanked her for her bravery and her authenticity. She smiled, not sure what to say next. I smiled back, allowing the silence to comfort her. We talked some more, about our jobs, our passions, the freedom we have. I asked her how long she would be in town. She didn’t have an answer. My insides swelled, oh how I know the feeling of being a wanderer.
I didn’t feel the need to hug her like I do with so many that are hurting. She didn’t need my comfort; she didn’t need my love, or my assurance. She was staying with herself, feeling it all. She was alone and sure of the unknown. Damn, was that a refreshing thing to see! I smiled, thanking God for this interaction. As I got up, I wished her the best, told her to keep kickin’ ass. She smiled saying thank you, that it was so nice to meet me. I wish her mom a painless passing and met her eyes. We saw each other. I smirked the smirk I always smirk, and walked away thinking, thank you for today, thank you for the reflection, and thank you for everyday. I threw away the remnants of my food, feeling her eyes locked on me. I looked up and she smiled again. She was going to be okay, only because she decided so.
