What Is . . . The Kindness of Strangers

 

(or, in this case, acquaintances)

Sun rising over a beach
 

I had planned a very different post for this What Is Wednesday. You see, on Saturday, I am turning fifty. That’s right, the big 5-0. And I actually have felt pretty good about turning fifty, despite some health scares and gray hairs and that middle-aged belly. I had a lot of hope and excitement about this next stage of life, but then something rather difficult happened, and I’ve had to reassess. For many reasons I won’t get into that now, but, instead, I’d like to dedicate this post to the kindness of strangers. In this case, it is more of a friendly acquaintance. Actually, it’s the mailman.

Not my mailman. My mailman is terrible - delivering things to the wrong addresses or days late. This is the mailman I’ve seen on my daily neighborhood walks with Cyrus before, during, and since the pandemic. He literally works through rain, snow, or shine (and a pandemic). We’ve become friendly over the years, stopping to chat about our families, our health, the weather, staying sane during a pandemic, etc. He has always had a smile on his face for me and I for him. Once, when we hadn’t seen each other in a while, he gave me a big hug. Now, before you start thinking this is creepy and weird, I promise you it’s not. He’s like a sweet cousin.

So, the day after this difficult thing happened, I was quite depressed and, like most people, when depressed I listen to depressing music (exactly why do we do this to ourselves?). And I was listening to Demi Lovato’s “Anyone” because I felt the way that she did—in that moment I needed absolutely anyone to listen or let me cry, and I felt pretty lost. In the song, she asks for the universe to send her anyone.

In an effort to clear my head, I decided to take a walk (this time without my little feisty Cyrus). Across the street I saw the mailman. As soon as he saw me, he waved and smiled. With tears running down my face, I didn’t want to be seen. He asked if I was okay, and I did my best to lie through my tears. I waved back, mumbled something about having a nice day, and carried on.

This mailman, who only knows me from seeing me on my daily walks, who is so dedicated to his job that he rarely goes off schedule, hopped into his truck and drove around the block until he found me. He did it so he could give me a hug and tell me, no matter what it is, it will be okay. I will find a way to work it out.

Has this solved all my problems? Of course not. Has it stopped subsequent tears? Not really. But at the moment when I literally (yes, I’m using the word correctly) needed anyone to tell me it would be okay, my mailman told me it would be okay.

So, in honor of my 50th (gasp!) birthday, I thank the kindness of strangers and ask that you be someone’s “anyone” this weekend, even it it’s just with a smile. And, as always . . .

Stay Curious.

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Fitting in Small Spaces