I think I am in love with things of old because they are a physical reminder of what life was like when the pace was just a bit slower. I see an object from the past and my mind questions how was it used, was it loved, did the owner just accept that the appliance or apparatus was the best there was and marvel at it’s technology, never imagining that in a few decades future generations would laugh at it’s limits, it’s simplistic nature, it’s uselessness in this new world?
But also I think I like to pretend that people were nicer, had better manners, cared about people on a deeper level, were more truthful, had principles, followed rules and had integrity. Honestly, that really is what these things mean to me. As if by collecting and loving and using them, those ideas might come to life. They are a wish for what I want life to be like. Those concepts were no more universal or true than now, but the fashion, the photos, the literature, the implication is that they were. By refusing to acknowledge ugly things, ugly words, ugly deeds or ideas, ugly didn’t exist.
Yesterday my friend Debbie was physically pushed with a shopping cart while standing in line by a nasty old man behind her who was in a hurry at the checkout at the grocery store. He didn’t like the pace of the line, that he had to wait, that Debbie didn’t crowd the person in front of her, impose her will on someone else for his convenience. Poor baby could hardly tell me the story without crying. I thought I was mad about the pre-school mom’s leaving out a fellow blogger, but this.. OUTRAGEOUS. She asked what would I have done in that situation? I think the little man would still be in surgery having the shopping cart removed from his urethra and I might be in jail waiting for my husband to post bail, but there would have been a brawl. I am having trouble with my reaction, his reaction, that a situation like that even occurs! Debbie, quiet and sweet, pleasant and giving, helpful and kind.. She kept her temper, she completed her transaction with no more than a glare back to her tormentor – who in the eyes of the law committed battery! The worst is that she keeps going back to that moment and playing out all the scenarios of what she wished she had said or done.. it’s exhausting me thinking about it! I just say, let karma have him. I am sure there will be justice. But thank you for being a lady, for being brave, for keeping yourself together, for showing him that he cannot force you to be less than you are, loving and peaceful and gentle and graceful. I still think you should carry a bigger purse in case you need to swing it very brusquely over your shoulder (and into your tormentor’s face) if you ever need to carve out some personal space in line, but that’s me.

One response to “Grace”

  1. Today we were in line and some woman behind us says “I’m in a real hurry and I’m late, can I go in front of you?” Of course we let her but all I could think of was sure honey, my time is not important at all. I have no place else to be. Rude. if you don’t have time STOP SHOPPING AND GO WHERE YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE. But I let it go because yeah, Karma will catch up and I don’t want to die of some scary stress induced disease. But man, I would have loved to pull my cell phone out and fake-called the police on the old guy.

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