You are in line, someone comes behind you and you put the bar up to divide the groceries. They thank you profusely for placing the bar there. You respond, “no problem” and they say, “It saves time!” and to that, we turn and wait for the cashier to check our goods.
Paper or plastic? They ask before they scan your needed items. “Plastic, it’s easier for my arm. Thank you.” The story carries on until you hear the woman in front of you try her card, only to have it BEEP BEEP, in denial.
She wipes it on her jeans, swipes again, to the honking beep again. “I don’t know what is up with this card. I do have a new one, I just have not activated it yet” and the cashier stares at her without much comment.
The clock ticks by; we wait.
How many times do we idly tell others too much information at the checkout?
We become their instant friends, we share something more than we want. Why is that?
Time. Matters. Now.
Connection.
Sometimes, we have no one to talk too and anyone will do.
Random statements about health, family, bills, and credit cards pass our lips as we linger in line and complete the transaction.
I used to watch my mother shop. I would go to the store and get dragged all over the place. I had to push a huge cart with her, and I had to put things inside the cart. My mother’s love language was gift-giving and acts of service. She cooked amazing meals and she loved to give gifts in the form of coloring books and groceries to her family.
Her cart was overflowing and into my cart since it rarely had items piled into it. Her items jumped in without delay and she and I would get in line at the commissary at Fort Lewis Army Base in Washington State. They beeped you through like cattle. The difference is the skin they took was the money in your account.
My mother experienced agoraphobia. She did not know she had it. The symptoms were so pronounced, so I figured it was undiagnosed. Once she was given some medication to calm her nerves she said. She stopped the medication after a few months. I think she needed it longer.
She had five places she would leave the house for Red Lobster, Target, Commissary, the Veterinarian and the Doctor/Dentist. The commissary was the most tedious.
Aisle after aisle, we would meander, literally, and look at every item. It was her only out, her one time she would explore life outside her home. She lingered in the cleaning aisle, and put more laundry soap than usual. She would giggle, “cackle” my dad had called it years ago.
At the checkout, she would become sweaty, nervous, and begin explaining why she got groceries that day. My grandchildren are here. I have to feed the family. They are hungry. More nervous laughter. She would start to stumble over her words, and then, say, “I am just a country girl from Missouri” and the cashier would giggle with her like they had some secret code.
Today, when I was at the store, the lady in front reminded me of my mother. It was a cool moment, and bittersweet.
My mom has been gone since 2012. My dad preceded her in death in 2005. Life was hard for my mom who did not drive and depended on family to get her to doctors and grocery stores.
…
The seemingly meaningless conversation, which passes one by in the check out lines in various stores, may mean more than one might think. Consider the ill, the shut-ins (who get a monthly ride to a grocery store), and some of the elderly who a visit to the store can be compared to a child at a circus.
Once, I helped an elderly woman choose some lotion for her extremely dry skin. She shared how her doctor recommended some, and she was in a wheeled cart, so I offered her my height to get the lotion she wanted. She said thank you and then told me to take care of my skin. She’s an old wrinkly bag now…but, in reality, she looked youthful for 85, even wheelchair-bound.
My compliments and my efforts brought a smile to her face.
Take some time to reach out to those around you.
Someone may want a short moment of your time, just to hear you validate their existence. Others may want to give you a compliment, lift your spirit, talk about the coffee you are buying, and actually find a way to bring a smile to your face.
Let them in; a kind word softens the world more than a cold ear.
~Just a thought by Pamela
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Previously published on Medium.com.
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Photo credit: By Daria Volkova on Unsplash