Grey Cardigan Man
I sat in one of the two chairs next to the blood pressure machine, waiting for my sons prescription in the pharmacy.
I don’t mind waiting.
I’ve always told Nicholas, “there are people who would give anything to be in this line right now.”
I like watching people. Making eye contact – smiling.
I sat and a thin, old man approached using a cane. He sat next to me on the blood pressure machines hard seat.
“Would you like to sit here?” I asked.
“No, I’m fine.”
I noticed his ball cap – “Veteran” on the back of it in yellow. And I noticed his cardigan – grey – atop his checkered button up shirt. He wore slippers. I was instantly pulled to him.
I watched him thumb through a magazine that was on the counter. Meticulously turning the pages – I noticed his tissue paper hands. I was mesmerized.
The seat to my left opened up and he closed the magazine, rose, and took it.
“I love your cardigan.”
“It’s old.” He replied.
“It’s dapper” I countered.
“I bought this in the 50’s.”
“Wow … that’s some quality.”
I noticed the WWII Navy emblem on the front of his cap and debated whether or not to ask.
My curiosity won out.
“Where did you serve?”
“Navy.”
“But where?”
“In the Pacific – on a carrier … one of the biggest ones.” He checked my face before he went on, “We were hit a couple of times … by the Japs.”
I flinched inside at the slur – but bit my tongue – considering the source and what he must have been through. Adding the fact that our encounter was brief and who would I be to ‘educate’ this man who had sacrificed for his country and watched his brothers in arms killed in war.
“Lost a lot of men – lucky to make it home.”
I held his gaze – he had surprisingly clear, blue eyes.
“Well … thank you.” And I meant it.
He seemed to be summing me up. He looked at me harder then – before saying, “You’re welcome. And, thank YOU.”
Little pink girl
I struggled with my laundry basket today – it’s bedding day.
I wondered when I waddled in, swaying back and forth from the weight of my laundry, if I really have lost too much weight.
Through the door and to the machine to load money onto the laundromat card.
There was a man behind me – mumbling about keys. I turned and smiled – not sure if he meant to be in line. I could still hear him mumbling while I filled two washing machines. I named him ‘man in the blue t-shirt’ and wondered about his life.
I am constantly curious.
As I looked to my right, from my machines – I noticed a sight that piqued my curiosity even more.
On the floor – was an open, empty suitcase.
Leaning against one of the machines was a small girl holding a blanket close to her and sucking her thumb.
She reminded me of a small deer – or bird. Nervously shifting and ready to take off at the slightest sign of danger.
My heart sighed.
I named her ‘little pink girl’ and my imagination was already writing her story. Why was she so thin and delicate? Were she and her guardian living out of that suitcase somewhere? Were they hiding from someone?
Of course, the very real possibility exists that she is simply on holiday. I do live in a resort area.
But I’m always wondering.
Her guardian came back to her side and was kind. My heart relaxed a little.
Little pink girl made eye contact with me and I smiled.
When I pulled my comforter out of my basket, like an impossibly large handkerchief from a magician’s hat, we shared a smile.
I imagined her thinking it was the color of hard candies.
I wanted to photograph her in that moment … leaning there – cautiously looking at her surroundings with her big, beautiful eyes. Sucking her thumb beside that suitcase.
Some moments can’t be captured.
But they can be shared.
Musings from my bed: Laundromat procrastination
I should already have my laundry basket prepared … my detergent packed – my bed stripped. But, I’m too comfortable in it to strip it. Too snuggly in my soft pajamas to do anything but stay in this quiet moment.
It’s inevitable – if I want clean clothes and sheets – and I am fond of such things.
But just this moment – right this second – it is SO deliciously quiet and peaceful and calm.
I have my cup of coffee, of the home made fancy variety.
Butters is outside exploring. Nic is sleeping. And the sun is hitting my curtain in a way that makes me smile.
It’s been a long few days.
Nicholas is experiencing the joy of becoming wise – in a most painful way. Yes, the wisdom teeth.
Well, ‘tooth’ as far as we can tell with all of our dental training.
Unfortunately for my chipmunk – he has an infection (again, educated guess based on the level of pain and size of his cheek.)
Last night, as we sat on our opposing couches, he suddenly jumped up and rushed to the kitchen.
Me: What??!
Nic: I think something just happened.
(I pretty much knew ‘something’ must have happened because Nic doesn’t move that quickly off of furniture for ‘nothing’.)
It turns out, that ‘something’ was an abscess rupturing in his mouth.
Not pleasant.
Me: Rinse with warm salt water!!
(Nic was already holding the salt – note to self: He DOES listen and retain advice from time to time – keep giving it)
I should take a moment to explain why I am not a terrible mother for not having had him seen by a dentist yet.
We were pretty sure a wisdom tooth was coming in – and he was in pain. But, as I said to Nic, “Of course you’re in pain, you are teething.”
It wasn’t until Halloween that he developed the swollen face.
I’m not going to go into details and pity stories – the long and short of it is, we don’t have health or dental insurance and we don’t have ‘in case of emergency’ money.
I spent Friday at work trying to figure out how to get him to a dentist.
So after the great ‘rupture’ he was actually feeling better.
Nic: Mom, look, I think it’s a good thing. I can bite down now. I don’t think I have to go to the dentist!
Me: Um … an abscess popping in your mouth isn’t a check mark in the ‘reasons I DON’T have to go to the dentist’ column.
Then he was sad. Spitting remaining salt water and drool into his little spit cup.
We had engaged in conversation earlier about the reality of the situation. I assured him his health was priority one, but that might mean Christmas would not be the same under the tree.
We spoke again when I visited him in his room.
Nic: I don’t want you spending money or owing money
Me: It is what it is. It’s important! Money can be replaced. It’s silly isn’t it? These pieces of paper that we trade for goods and services. Sure, it would make things easier if we had more of it – but we don’t. We’re blessed though. Everything always works out. So, don’t worry about it.
And we are blessed.
We’re alive – have use of our limbs and our faculties. We have a home and food and snuggly pajamas. We have each other and Butters. We have clothes TO wash and transportation TO get to the place to wash them.
And we have sunlight playing on our curtains. And the kind of eyes and souls that notice such things – and smile.
Musings from the Laundromat: Website Edition
I got here later than usual – and as a result, I have a lot more company.
I am at a table completely foreign to me – exposed in the middle of the room. I prefer to face the door with no one behind me. I don’t like the sensation that someone could be reading over my shoulder. (Which is odd when you consider that what I’m writing I publish for all to see.)
I am finding myself even missing the giant rainbow umbrella table!
I am in uncharted laundry waters.
Here is my view:
Have to say, I much prefer my laundry basket to those in front of me:
Back to uncharted waters.
I spent most of yesterday and the night – creating a website. At this point, as I sit at my strange little exposed table I am feeling bonkers.com
Other than this site, I have never created a website before – and when it is for something as important as the subject I was presenting, the stress multiplies.
Somehow, with the help of clickable question marks and trial and error – I got it up and running.
Of course, there is always tweaking to be done. Things you notice the next day when your eyes and brain have rested.
After getting more feedback and translations from Rainer, I went back to the desk and edited.
You know, there are some words that can turn your blood to ice in your veins, and I can testify that some of those words are: “Unable to Save.”
After my initial palpitations and cursing in my head – I switched to logical mode and tried to solve the problem.
Shut down, restart. Nope. Try Chrome instead of Firefox. Nope. Update Chrome because you’ve been ignoring all the ‘update’ messages for a very long time now. Nope. Shut down, restart again.
I came to the conclusion that the issue must be with the site and not with me. And I am hoping this is not an indication of their servers. The domain is claimed – the site created – so if editing is a recurring problem, that will not be good. I will have to take the domain name elsewhere.
Without further ado: I now present to you, in all it’s ‘not completely edited’ glory:
http://www.daserbedeskommandanten.com
In all seriousness – it is the website for Rainer’s book. It will be available next year in English. The German version is available now.
It is so VERY important that we do not forget! History has a way of repeating itself, personally and globally, when we do not learn from the past!
The book recounts the past and answers frequently asked questions of ‘how’ and ‘why’ Rainer continues to do what he does.
Speaking out against your family for the right reasons is brave – and good.
As I said to Rainer: ‘Remember, there is such GOOD.’
And I am humbled and honored to have had the opportunity to play a small part in it.
Words
Thinking a lot about words lately. Ever since my friend that visited the other night said I deserved something.
Deserve sounds like a grabby, greedy, Veruca Salt word to me. Like you could insert ‘entitled to’ instead and have the sentence come out the same way.
I don’t think I ‘deserve’ anything. In fact, I’m very lucky I have NOT ‘got what I deserve’ lol
I prefer to think in terms of ‘am I worthy of that?’. But, the definition is the same. It’s just the way ‘deserved’ is used and abused … the lightness and worthiness has been taken out of the word for me.
Strange isn’t it.
Words.
My friend, Lisa, sends me a quote every weekday and it’s funny how often we differently interpret the words, and in turn, the meaning of them.
Today’s was:
“You have not converted a man because you have silenced him.”
— John Morley,
I took it to mean: because someone isn’t voicing their opposition to your beliefs anymore, doesn’t mean they share them.
She took it to mean: being silenced in a violent manner may shut them up, but did not have an overall impact on their opinion.
I told her I loved that we saw things differently and end up meeting in the middle. And I do.
This afternoon I was speaking to an account executive that I’m friendly with and we spoke of words.
She has a co-worker who likes to say ‘Coral’ just because he likes the sound of it. So he’ll ask random things like, ‘that blouse, is it Coral?’
He’s apparently been using ‘commiserate’ a lot lately too. Usually incorrectly, as long as he can squeeze it into a sentence.
That cracks me up. I love it. I would love that person if I knew them.
Just the fun of using a word you like. Not even caring if it fit the situation. I’m smiling thinking about it. How many ways he finds to say ‘coral’ every day.
It’s charming really.
I have my favorite words – and they are favorites not because of their meanings, but because of how they feel coming out of my mouth. (hush)
I’m ALWAYS saying ‘bonkers!’ “That’s bonkers!” In fact, if I had another animal, I’d probably name it Bonkers. Could you imagine? Butters and Bonkers?
I love the word pancake. I was never a huge fan of ‘cake’ the actual food – until lately – so I get to say ‘cake’ a lot but it’s not as satisfying as ‘pancake’.
I like to say shenanigans, tangent, plethora and juxtaposition too.
You’ve got to know what you’re doing when you throw ‘juxtaposition’ around. I’ve done it successfully here in a few posts – and I’m always internally giving myself a high-five when I do pull it off.
It’s funny to me that my friend doesn’t like it. How different we all are.
How words touch us in such varied ways.
Some of her favorite words are: filibuster, skulk and kitteh. (I wasn’t going to argue that ‘kitteh’ isn’t a word – but it is in the meme world. And how do you define a word anyway? If it can be verbally accomplished and spelled isn’t that a word?)
It’s really just a shame I have a problem communicating orally – I have SO many words I want to use out loud.
Until I garner that skill – I’ll just keep typing them here.
Happy Friday … Coral!!!
Debauchery Soup 