[2021-12-17] Little bright moments
Despite all the somber news today, I encountered many little bright moments throughout my day.
The first occasion occurred at Costco. I had stopped in front of the refrigerated section containing yogurt. As I was texting my son to ask whether we needed more, I was oblivious to a young man who wanted access to the very yogurt I was barricading with my cart. "Could I squeeze by you?" he said, in the kindest voice. I looked up from my phone and blurted out: "I'm so sorry." I remarked to the young man that his request was the most gentle he could have made, especially when he was probably thinking, "Hey lady! Can you text somewhere else? I want to get some yogurt."
When I was at the Costco checkout, a middle-aged woman two customers ahead of me was struggling to get her credit and debit cards to work. She seemed a little confused. The cashier was remarkably sweet with the woman, explaining which cards she could use and patiently guiding her through the process. When the customer succeeded in finalizing her payment, the cashier said with enthusiasm: "I knew you could do it!" When I went through the cash a few minutes later, I complimented the cashier on how absolutely lovely she had been to the woman. She beamed.
My next stop was Walmart. I had been looking for ice cube trays, but hadn't found them, when a harried-looking employee walked past me. "Excuse me," I said, "would you know where I could find ice cube trays?" Her harried look melted into a smile. "Sure," she said, and took me right to the spot.
Soon after, a man almost walked off with my cart, until he realized his mistake. He offered an embarrassed apology, which I thought was funny and genuine.
I then proceeded to the self-checkout. The woman supporting customers in this area was a model of calmness and positivity. She came to my kiosk to help remove a purchase for an item I decided not to buy. She returned when I tried to scan something that instead had a code. She offered more bags when she saw me stealing some from a nearby kiosk because mine was out. And she helped me scan a heavy item. Every time she approached me, she was smiling, and her face never betrayed a hint of impatience. As I left, I told her that she was doing a great job.
I then went to the bank. As I walked in, a young woman approached me to ask what brought me into the bank. When I explained that I wanted to make a withdrawal in a specific denomination, she informed me that I could do that at the ATM. "Would you like me to help you?" she asked. "Sure," I said. There's nothing like having an expert walk you through how to use a fancy new ATM. She stuck with me through the whole process. I was in and out of the bank in five minutes, with no waiting. I thanked her for being so helpful.
As I returned to my car (and as I had experienced on the way into the bank), a driver stopped to allow me to pass in front of him. He wasn't obligated to stop as I was clearly waiting to allow him to proceed, but he did. With a little wave, I trotted by.
In the afternoon, my husband and I went to the Nepean Sportsplex to a mass vaccination clinic so that Chris could get his COVID vaccine booster shot. Among the many nice and efficient people we met was a young man who was responsible for seating people to wait their turn. He looked at us and said, "I guess you'll be wanting a table for two?" It was just the kind of levity one would want in such a moment.
When I got home, I discovered that I had received from staff and former colleagues a book of messages congratulating me on my retirement. It is the most beautiful gift, filled with compliments about my leadership, my impact and my kindness. I truly believe that kindness matters, and I'm grateful that a quality I aspired to was evident to others.
Finally, of the many heartwarming messages I received today, I would single out one from a dear former colleague, who sent me a link to positive thoughts (Pensée positive : conseils et citations pour réaliser vos projets). The webpage contains 58 quotes to inspire readers. One of my favourites was this one, attributed to the Greek philosopher Sénèque:
La vie ce n’est pas d’attendre que les orages passent, c’est d’apprendre à danser sous la pluie. (Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning how to dance in the rain.)
This is a fitting metaphor for my life as I deal with a second cancer. Indeed, it might be relevant for all of us as we face the grim headlines about the Omicron variant. Let us not wait for cancer or COVID to pass to notice the joys life has to offer.
I also loved this quote from Yann Arthus Bertrand, French photographer, reporter, filmmaker and environmentalist:
Il faut se concentrer sur ce qu’il nous reste et non sur ce qu’on a perdu. (We must focus on what we have left and not on what we have lost.)
Even in the midst of melancholy, as we navigate busy stores, long lineups and renewed public health restrictions, it's worthwhile remembering what we still have. That's different for everyone, but for me it includes my family, my friends, my patience, my kindness, my sense of humour, and my ability to see the rainbow as I'm dancing in the rain.
