Who's Dirk?

I won't lie; Wednesday was an incredibly rough day. I battled my insurance (it's crazy fighting cancer AND my insurance) and found out I needed two surgeries instead of one.

 

My doctor called to say he could do the first surgery in two days, and although I acted tough on the phone, I cried after we hung up. It's just that sometimes this whole journey feels like a never-ending rollercoaster. I'm buckled in tight, and—when I'm at my weakest—I just want to get off the ride. 

 

I received another call shortly after this. "Elisa, you have appointments in Utah over the next couple days. We have a room available if you'd like to take it." 

 

"This is the best news!" I dried my eyes. "You have no idea how much this makes people's lives easier."

 

"Ma'am," she said, "are you doing okay today?"

 

It seemed like such a long time since someone genuinely asked how I'm doing. "Well, today was my kids' first day of school. I got to send them off, but I won't be there when they get home. It honestly breaks my heart, and sometimes… this journey with cancer just feels undoable." I sighed. "I hope that you're having a nice day?" I asked.

 

"Me?" She laughed. "I'm great." After a moment, she continued. "I hear what you're saying about the first day of school though. I have kids, and that would be hard to miss. I want you to know that you are strong. And you've got this, mama!"

 

I'm not sure why, but her words cheered me so much. After getting into my car, I told myself to find the good around me. Sure two surgeries loomed in the future, but there was so much goodness surrounding me—like patient housing and the amazing woman who'd just spoken with me on the phone. 

 

I drove toward patient housing, and that's when I spotted Dirk's Dry Cleaning. I suddenly wondered who Dirk was and what his family was like. Had he always wanted to own a dry-cleaning business? Had he fulfilled all of his hopes and dreams? Was he still running the company? I know some might find it trite, but each of us really is the main character in our own story. We can do all of these incredible things and too often we take it for granted. I was the prime example. I could've been enjoying life that very moment, but instead I'd let fear about the future nearly drown me.

 

So, still thinking about Dirk and all of us, I decided to treat myself to a Jamba Juice. 

 

"When I was in high school—over twenty years ago—you had a drink with 'peach' in the name?" I asked the cashier. As a teenager, I'd had a surgery, and I still remember how my mom and dad splurged and bought me a fancy drink. I felt so loved. In fact, every time I have anything that even remotely tastes like peaches, I remember how wonderful my parents are.

 

The boy typed something into his computer. "It's not on our menu anymore, but I found it. It's called a Peach Passion."

 

"That's it!" I said, feeling better and better.

 

So after getting my drink, I went to patient housing, drank my Jamba Juice, and called my kids to see how their first day of school was.

 

"I'm so sorry I'm not there in person," I told them.

 

"Mama," Indy said, "I knew you were thinking about me so much, it felt like you were with me the whole day."

 

Her words meant the world to me. That's when I knew I could get through the surgeries—hell, I could get through ANYTHING… as long as I got more time with the people I love.

 

 

More than Coincidence

A memory... 

My four kids and I bought a bouquet of flowers and vowed to give it to the first woman we saw.

"I hope we'll see someone soon," my oldest daughter, Ruby, said. Pondering her words, I thought how she’s the prankster who put fake cat poop on her teacher's chair, but still the same sweet girl who held our Labrador forever after the vet put our sweet dog to sleep.

After a few minutes, Ruby spotted someone. "Her!” She pointed to a woman.

I pulled up to the curb. Then, carrying the flowers, I ran up to the woman. Was she a nurse? She wore scrubs. And why did she look so sad?

“These are for you!" I finally sputtered, holding the windblown flowers toward her.

The woman's eyebrows knitted in confusion. "Sorry." I smiled, standing up straight. "My kids and I are trying to do a random acts of kindness once a week—every week. I know it sounds crazy, but it’s been good for them. I’m a single mom, just trying to give them good memories. Anyway, we got these special…. These flowers, well, they’re for you."

I held them out to her again, and after a moment her eyes sparkled as she hugged the bouquet so tenderly.

“Well, see ya!"

I turned and sprinted back to the van.  

“She's so happy," Ruby said, and all four of my kids squealed, watching the woman until she walked behind a gray-brick building.

The traffic was terrible, and I swear we waited at the stop sign for longer than Methuselah lived. Then, as we turned, my second-oldest daughter pointed in astonishment. 

"She's a vet. Look! She's on the other side of the building. Holding those flowers."

The woman, still beaming, opened a vet hospital's door and walked inside. My heart stopped as I looked at the vet hospital. We'd been there before, years ago with our beautiful Labrador.

“Mama, now that I think of it, she kind of looks familiar," Ruby said, confirming my thoughts.

I had to blink away the tears because in that moment I realized the woman was the same person who selflessly helped console Ruby the day our Labrador passed away.

She Has Beautiful Eyes

 “She has the most beautiful eyes,” I said about a stranger at the diner. 

“You should tell her,” Candy responded.

“I can’t,” I whispered. “That’s embarassing.”

But Candy ignored my statement. “My friend was just saying the sweetest thing about you.”

The older woman stopped and leaned down.

“I said... you have the most beautiful eyes. In fact, YOU are beautiful.”

The woman’s bottom lip quivered, and she appeared completely dumbfounded while the elderly man, who I assumed was her husband, sat down at another booth.

“I’ve never had anyone tell me I’m beautiful, and I’m in my late 80s,” the woman said.

After the woman took her seat, she was all Candy and I could talk about. “She deserves all the kindness in the world.”

I nodded in agreement. “You know. I wish I would’ve told her right away how beautiful she is. Something so simple, so easily given, brightened her day. I guess today I was just tired.”

“Well, when it mattered, you did make her day better. And I bet it’ll come back around.”

If karma helped anyone, it should’ve come to Candy. But honestly, I don’t know what to believe about things like fate and karma. 

Long after my friend returned to Utah, I remembered her words: “It’ll come back around.” That’s about the time something very strange happened.

I found myself at the same diner, but I sat with Mike this time. We both enjoyed a cup of coffee and laughed about life when someone tapped on my shoulder. The stranger must’ve been in his 80s or 90s, and his eyes twinkled when he spoke. “I have something for you,” he said and handed me a toy from the vending machine. I turned and realized he’d just been stocking the machines at the end of the diner, and although other patrons filled the store, for some reason he picked me. 

“Thank you so much!” I said, opening the plastic container that held a mini-deck of cards.

He went to leave, then turned around slowly. “You know,” he leaned down, “you have beautiful eyes.”

Although Mike dismissed this as coincidence, I couldn’t believe the irony. And even though Mike proceeded to beat me at every card game we played that day, I could not quit smiling.

#ecstilson #randomactofkindness #cardgames #minideckofcards