I'm of the belief, similar to Forrest Gump, that our lives are a mix of predetermined fate and carving out your own destiny. I think there are forks in the road that you choose, and I also think that sometimes life's paths will intersect in certain places whether you want them to or not.
Everything happens for a reason.
I also think that some people are meant to come into our lives at specific times. Sometimes they are only there for a matter of minutes, but they make a difference, and you never forget them. This has happened to me quite a few times, but there are two in particular I'd like to share.
When I was in high school, I met a boy, fell in love, etc. We were together for just over two years. I'd never had a real boyfriend before, and I was completely and totally convinced that he we were going to be together forever. Such is the teenage mind I suppose.
Long story short, he was emotionally abusive through most of the relationship. Controlled what I ate, who I hung out with, what music I should listen to. The reasons why I stayed as long as I did are a story for another day.
It got physically abusive at the very end. I was ready to break up, he wasn't, and it turned into a day of horror for me. The end result was him getting arrested, and me, covered in bruises and bites, wondering what the hell I was supposed to do without him. I survived, but for a while it was barely that.
Fast forward nine years later. Life was so different, and I had a phenomenal man in my life, a decent job, and good friends. Most of the time I was a very happy person, but when the anniversary of that horrible day would roll around, I struggled with the memories and the circumstances of it.
On this particular day, I had a shit day at work, and I had to take the bus home because no one could give me a lift. I remember walking to the bus stop with my earbuds in, because I never talked to anyone if I didn't have to. It was December, and it was miserable. I was brooding and could feel my anxiety trying to creep up on me. A big burly black guy tapped me on the shoulder and asked me what time it was.
This is the guy who gave me the nudge I won't forget.
I reluctantly pulled out a bud and gave him the time. Before I could get it back in, he was already talking. I can't be rude to someone who's nice, I'm just not built for it, so we chatted waiting for that bus. He started randomly telling me about his sister who'd been in a bad relationship lately. How he didn't understand why she stayed when she was being treated so badly, and why she kept going back. Then he told me about a friend of his that had been dating a guy for a long time, and he ended up eventually killing her, and how tragic and sad it was that people who were supposed to love each other could end that way.
This should have been a terribly awkward conversation, but instead, after I said goodbye and got off at my stop, I had a bit of an epiphany.
I didn't die. I was still alive, and more than that, I got out.
I survived, and have thrived, and appreciated the love that I had now even more because I didn't take it for granted. I was LUCKY. And I needed to stop taking myself back there to that day and letting it eat at me.
I am who I am because of what I've done, what I've been through, and what path I've stumbled down for the last 31 years. Regretting is pointless, it accomplishes nothing. Instead, I do what I can to learn from my mistakes, and the mistakes of others around me. I am pretty proud of who I've turned out to be, and I'll never forget the man on the bus for unknowingly giving me a kick in the ass when I needed it. I never even got his name.
The second story just happened this week. And I think I was someone this family won't forget.
I work in a jewelry store. A woman came in wanting to make a ring for her daughter as a graduation present. The diamonds she had to use were from her late ex-husband, her daughter's father, who had passed away last year. Since I lost Dad last year too, we bonded pretty quickly.
Her daughter arrived a little while later because Mom didn't want to try and pick the style for something this important. We spend a lot of time perusing through books and mountings, and finally she found one she liked. Then the daughter started to cry.
I was afraid something was wrong, but the mom asked her if it was because they were her dad's diamonds. She nodded her head. I started crying, her mom started crying, but it turned out to be a beautiful moment. Her mom told her she had some amazing memories to hold onto, and that her father would have wanted her to have these, and she wanted to make it for her.
I ended up spending about two hours with this family, telling stories and laughing and crying. Just yesterday the ring got finished up. The mother came to pick it up, and it was perfect. She knew she'd done the right thing, and we talked some more about the death of someone close and how you cope with it. By the time she left with ring in hand, I knew I'd remember them forever. And I knew they'd remember me.
The encounter has me reflecting on the time I got to spend with my Dad, and how even though he's gone, he's still here for me. I'm so glad that this family came into my life, ever so briefly. It was quite random that I was the one person, out of everyone that works in jewelry in this town, that got to help them out. Or was it?
It was Bogart who said "Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine."
This fascinating and delicate path that is life is full of twist, turns, forks, and climbs. But it's my path, and I'm excited to see who and what is around the next bend.
No comments:
Post a Comment