just horrible

July 14, 2002 &bull uncategorized

After swimming laps (or more appropriately, doggy-paddling them) in the community pool, Heidi and I decided to take a quick dip in the hot tub. We were relaxing and talking about the upcoming week when we were joined by an older woman, probably in her sixties. After a few more minutes we decided we were well-pruned and got up to leave. Heidi wished our companion a good night, but instead of returning the obligatory, “Thanks, you too,” the woman said, “Well, I don’t think so. Today has been a horrible day, just horrible.” Heidi politely said that she was sorry to hear that and we took off.

I think we both felt bad leaving without asking the woman what was wrong, but sometimes it is hard to know if a person is looking for someone to talk to or if they are merely answering your questions/comments truthfully and really just want to be left alone.

Tonight’s encounter reminded me of something that happened when I was living alone in Fargo, ND, in what seems like another lifetime. I was living downtown in a nice, old apartment building that had both young and old residents alike. I was riding the elevator one morning, on my way to the newspaper for another day of exciting IT action. I was depressed about someting that morning, although I can’t really remember what. I’m sure it had to do with the latest personal tragedy I was experiencing, but as I said, I don’t really remember the specifics. However, I know for a fact that I was in the dumps about something because I felt like a complete asshole after the encounter I’m about to describe. I wouldn’t have felt like this if I hadn’t been thinking about how bad my lot in life was at that particular moment.

I lived on the seventh floor so it wasn’t uncommon to pick up other passengers on the ride down. (At some point I’ll write about the time I was joined by a blind woman who didn’t know I was in the elevator with her. Talk about uncomfortable….) On the fourth or fifth floor I was joined by an elderly woman, probably in her eighties. I wished her a good morning and asked her how things were going. She proceeded to tell me that she was just beside herself this morning. She continued, “I’m on my way to my sister’s funeral and I just can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it.” Suddenly my wrinkled shirt, bitter coffee, controlling boss, or whatever it was that was causing my morning depression seemed pretty stupid. I thought about my sister, my family, and my friends and what they meant to me and how I would react if I was on my way to one of their funerals. In the course of a floor or two my outlook on the day (and on my life) had changed dramatically.

It always amazes me how quickly life can provide the proverbial “wake-up call.” I’ll never forget those words that morning in the elevator. I hope the woman in the hot tub tonight only had to soak and think about that night’s burned pot roast or that afternoon’s flat tire on her Buick. Perhaps her horrible day wasn’t as bad as she thought. Perhaps it was.

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