Shortly before my mother passed, she had noticed that I had a second piercing done on my left earlobe. She was appalled and insisted that I get my right earlobe doubled pierced so I would be even again. I said, “No ma, it’s cool this way.” So, when I had my mother’s wedding ring remounted and only three of the four diamond chips remained, I had an earring made from them and wear it in that second piercing. I honor my mother’s memory with something she would have despised. Always the defiant one, am I.
I mention this earring, because with all that has been happening in the past week with my store closing, I have noticed myself tugging or checking that my earring is in its place. There actually was a time that I lost it for almost a year, I even had a new one made from the diamond chips of a ring my mother-in-law had given me, but miraculously, the earring came back to me. It does not hold a great monetary value, but I would be heartbroken to lose it. It’s my way of always keeping my mother with me. She was a little crazy, but she was a genuinely kind soul. My mother would give you her last crumb of food if she thought it would help you more than herself. Sadly, I truly believe, she was too good for this world and that is why she left it at such a young age.
In the final days of our store’s life, there was barely any refrigerated groceries left to sell. I noted that all we really had left were the Whoa Dough Bars and a Tub of Miso. I liked the sound of that and decided that it had to be the title of my next blog. I really thought that I would writing about how the store quickly emptied out once we announced the sale on limited items and how no matter how many signs I had up in the store, no matter how empty the shelves were, so many people just couldn’t understand that the store was closing. It was frustrating to say the least and quite honestly, my responses to these poor souls became more snarky. I mean, look at this place. Have you ever seen this store’s shelves so empty? Come on people! Or, maybe I should say, never underestimate the power of denial.
As our final days approached, I worried about some of the customers who truly relied on our existence. Then again, I relished the idea of some of the customers I couldn’t be happy to never serve again. It was a mixed bag of emotions, but with my patience running thin, the later idea kept coming to the forefront of my gray matter. I wanted our last day to be a keepsake moment for the team. I brought in two dozen paczkis and ordered pizza for the team. I scheduled everyone to be there for the locking of the door one last time, I wanted a moment to remember. The planning of the paczki/pizza party and my snarky attitude kept me going. With all that noise, sorrow couldn’t creep in.
I was expecting several of our regular customers to show, to take one last peek at the limited remains and to say goodbye or to complain one last time about our closing. What I didn’t expect was the outpouring of appreciation towards us. I completely understand the customers who came to say goodbye to a few of our amazing team members, but not to me, not really. I’m not the type of sales person who will spend untold hours holding your hand and listen with eternal intent. I’m more of the type of sales person who makes an educated recommendation and sends you packing because I have a million and one things I need to get down. I give my best advice and move on to the next patron, or at least that is how I see myself. I was floored at the gratitude that came my way. I even received a some very thoughtful gifts and words of kindness I truly never expected to hear. After all, I’m the intimidating one, right?
We closed the doors and said our good byes one last time two days ago and I think I’m in denial. I’m still working diligently processing the store’s remains to transfer to other locations. I’m thinking and planning of all that I need to do here before I can go there and take on a new location, new team members and a much larger work load. I’m packing and processing not only product, but my treasured decorations and merchandising accessories. I’m closing the financials and going to trainings and all the while; I keep checking to make sure my earring is where it should be. It gives me comfort to know that it is there, it keeps me grounded in gratitude. I’m sad and scared, I don’t do well with change, but my mantra has been that this is an opportunity for me to reach my potential, whatever that may be. I need to believe that, it’s the only way I can cope with all the sorrow.
Today, I really felt the need to get my haircut, to do something that would make me feel lighter, and better about myself. I thought about trying to find someplace near my new store, but I was so tired, I just wanted to make the long drive home and call it a day. The closer I neared home, the more I needed to do something to make me feel better, so I called the salon I’ve been going to most recently and asked if there was a chance that they could fit me in. They could, if I could get there within ten minutes. With laser precision driving skills, I made it there, even with the parking being a challenge, I made it in ten minutes.
The hairstylist was new to me, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t receive the wrath I feel when someone dares to ask me the most insincere question, I believe this world has derived. “How are you?” That question makes my blood boil. Most people just say it because it is something that is supposedly polite. I however, feel that it is insincere and basically, a lie. You don’t really care how I am, so why ask? This poor soul received my response of distain. “That’s a question I do not ask. Don’t ask a question unless you really want to know the answer.” She took it all in stride as I minimally explained what was going on in my life and how I thought getting my haircut would make me feel better. And then, I fell into silence, eyes closed, listening to the music, and desperately trying to calm down.
For the first time in a long time, I felt like I was truly being cared for by a hairstylist. She didn’t just go snip, snip, snip and send me on my way, she took the time to do some extra work on my hair that I have never received before. I felt like she had listened to me, not only about what I would like done with my hair, but what I was going through, my hopes, my fears, the whole kit and kaboodle. I opened my eyes and commented on how gray my hair was getting. She told me that the way it was coming in complimented my blonde hair, or something like that. All I truly remember, is that she said something nice to me when I needed to hear it most.
When she finished, I thanked her and told her that I now felt better. When I met her at the checkout, she told me that she is allowed to give one free haircut a month and that my cut was free today. I stood still in amazement and so she repeated the statement. As the tears welled up in my eyes, I reached out to her, and hugged her as if my life depended on it. Along with a monetary tip, I gave her my business card. I told her that I write a blog and that this moment was something I would write about, and so I am.
Gratitude, unexpected kindness, compassion, sincerity, these are the gifts we bestowed upon our customers at our little store. Moments of tenderness in the harshest of moments, lending an ear when one needs to be heard, quiet contemplation before offering sincere advice, good intentions, and a sense of community. These priceless gestures are what our customers were thanking us for. Things we gave freely, without thought or hesitation because we truly wanted to be of assistance in even the smallest of ways. I know I am harsh and intimidating, that is how many see me, but for those who can look beyond my large stature and my stern face, there lies the kindness my mother instilled in me. To give, when there’s not much to offer, without expecting anything in return, that’s how I was raised.
It’s incredibly rewarding to know that I’m not just Gullible Gail, too trusting, too ignorant for her own good. Knowing that there are people who appreciate my simpleness, my bluntness and matter-of-factness gives me pause. I have no idea what lies ahead, what plans have been laid for me, but I do know that I will begin the next leg of my journey with an open heart and mind. I will do my best to cast away fear and self-doubt and attempt to see how high is high. Most importantly, I will remember to be kind, every time I tug on my earring, and if all I have to offer is some Whoa Dough and a Tub of Miso, I will gladly share it with all whom are brave enough to ask.
#thelieswechoosetolivewith
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