Two Dollars

Standing in line at the grocery store after letting my breakfast get cold because what are nursing home staff for? 

I set out on this expedition to grab a cake for someone who is special to me. It’s her birthday today. Before that we done our normal shift duties of checking off trucks and fixing everything that others left to be cleaned up. The day is going by fairly quickly and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m in a better headspace or because it’s just one of those days. After changing out the oxygen tank we stopped to grab breakfast, it was almost to the bag when we got sent to the nursing home for low BS, which was actually a lot of BS, because you can’t just pop them with glucagon. Got deemed some sort of hero at the nursing home, by the 14 family members of the patient that were crammed in the 12 by 12 room, explained it was just “sugar water” and reinforced the idea of getting her a WHOLE MEAL. It was a party. 

Left there and rolled into the grocery store where I noticed a vehicle with a law enforcement tag, one that wasn’t local and I didn’t recognize. It caused my spidy senses to start tingling and my inner investigator come out. Who is driving this vehicle? Why are they here? Where are they from? What are they doing? It’s Sunday morning so the store was kinda of bare. I was sure I’d accomplish my mission. The answer was NOT what I had expected… I grab my case of drinks (which will also be my next investigative mission…) and a cake that fits and move along to the check out. I didn’t walk the aisle or clear the store to find out who was in the car, because in all honesty I forgot about that mission. I have moments where my curiousity gets the best of me and times where I can stay on track. Today, it was the latter.  I continue on to the checkout line where I patiently stand as I hear “it’s going to be 1.45” then I proceed to watch the middle to elderly aged lady, with a few Faygos in her buggy, dump all the contents of her little coin pouch in her hand… I notice a couple of gold, what appeared to be wedding bands, and a handful of change. As I’m seeing what’s going on in front of me, I feel someone coming up to the line. 

I turn around to see a familiar face. A face that I seen a couple of shifts ago, it was the daughter of a patient that we transported. The patient was an old generation male who “just ain’t right”. I’d stood in his kitchen as she’d given me the run down of the decline in his health over the last two weeks. I’d checked in with her later that night to see how he was doing. I messaged her when I found out he’d passed. He was in good spirits when we left him and he planned to get right so he could get back to work. The numbness I seen in her face and heard in her voice was all too familiar. I spoke and she didn’t seem interested in conversation, which I understand all to well. I refused to bring up the elephant in the room and I refused to tell her I was sorry to hear because sorry fixes nothing when your grieving, conversation fixes nothing when your mind and heart are with the ones who have left you. In hopes of avoiding awkward silence or eye contact, I politely redirected my attention back to the lady who was in front of me, stil digging through change. 

Another register opened and I moved over to continue the checkout process, during which I heard the cashier from the other lane say, “you need 45 more, is that all you’ve got?”, as I was pulling my card out I grabbed the two dollars that will sit there, until my child finds them. I held them in my hand so that I could not so easily be noticed when I handed them off to the lady in the other line. As I turned around, I held them out in her line of sight as she was looking into the coin purse that just wouldn’t produce the amount she needed. The look on her face when she looked up and said “no thank you…” caught eye contact and give the responses of “I’m sure”. She willingly took it and I walked away before I could hear anything more. 

At the end of this life, we can’t take the money, but people will always remember how you lived and how you treated them. I attempt to remain humble in all things because I may one day be the one looking into an empty coin purse for “45 more”. I know the feeling of losing a parent. I know how quickly life can change and put me in a place opposite of where I am now. Loving unconditionally and hypothetically have been one of the biggest joys in my life… because one day, I may be the one receiving the “two dollars”. After all, you can’t take it with you when you’re gone…