Remembrance Week: A Most Precious Gift

I braced myself to enter Costco on Friday and as I was just starting down the aisles I heard, "Hello, Dahling!"

It was Bronwyn. "I have an hour," she said. "Tell me four things and I'll go collect them."

She had remembered what I had written back in October.

She scooped up raspberries and rolls, chocolate milk and eggs. She guarded the carts while I rushed back for something I had forgotten. We talked about what to serve on the menu for the weekend and what to serve on Remembrance Day. We compared prices.

And as we marched our laden carts toward the checkout, I couldn't help but smile at how easy it was this Friday, because the job was shared; I was on a team.

She bought me the flowers that graced the TH this weekend too, and gave me the beautiful green scarf to brighten up my fall coat.

What a gift it is to know that what you say and how you feel are taken seriously! Dad said not long ago that it's a sad thing to be forsaken; but it's tremendously sad to be forgotten on top of it all. 

I was remembered on Friday. And that simple gesture, that short hour, made me walk out of Costco with my head erect and my mind re-engaged and my heart warmed.