Saturday, October 22, 2011

Standing in the Wrong Line

When I am shopping in a store and I position myself at the checkout line to purchase my items I always seem to get in the wrong line. I try to gauge and guess which line is going to move the fastest but I always seem to guess the wrong one.
I repeat my mantra "this is a test of patience" and dial myself back a few notches, "no biggie". I hate to admit it but while trying to bide my time I'll peruse the handy magazine racks to read the celebrity gossip on Brad and Angelina, or some other celeb.
What usually holds up the line is also a guessing game. I try to look the other way, feigning indifference, not register any emotion. Yes, I have been in the position where it is one of my items that requires a price check. When it is me, I usually turn to the people waiting in line and make a lame apology. Sometimes this reminds me of the need for civility among strangers. If I exercise patience maybe others will also. I'm not sure if this a mistake in logic but by modeling the desired behavior perhaps it will lead others to be kind.
There are definite "vibes" I pick up on from other people. One of the biggest is lack of awareness, how their behavior might effect others. Is this related to intelligence or manners? I think it can be a lot of both.
All I know, is when I'm waiting in line to buy stuff, it doesn't take that much effort to give the person in front a little space, and act a little polite, it is not a direct affront to me personally. Stop being in such a hurry and be nice once in awhile to other people.

Wednesday, October 5, 2011


I've been thinking alot lately of my late mother. She died around this time of year and that always raises poignant and sometimes painful memories of family and childhood. We are the sum of our experiences so it is better to acknowledge this rather than bury it.
I'm going to tell you something that I have not shared with another living soul. I was with my mother at her death. I had never witnessed death before and so you really do not know what to expect. You see it at the movies but you know it's not real. When someone dies it is sometimes a slipping away and hopefully peaceful.
That day I tried to feed my mother yogurt and some banana. What a foolish thing to try and accomplish when there are only short hours left. Maybe I was in denial and thought the food would give her strength and she would live. It's just part of my memory now.
I bent over and whispered to her that I was there. My emotions were all over the place, being alone, not wanting her to die alone. I guess it is a daughter's duty to hold her mother's hand as she lay there dying. Believe me, I knew this was something that I would play back over and over as time goes by but I trust that what I saw has not been altered by time.
I philosophized about how death is a reminder to us of the preciousness of life.
She marshaled strength near one of her last breaths, sat upright and raised her fist. I do not know if it was to signal anger or perhaps victory. I guess I'll never know. I know it is something I'll never forget nor the memories of the life she had which at times was a struggle. A child remembers things thru their own child like perception so the accuracy of my recollections has had years to ferment into what I think happened. Even if some of it was true.