Clean up on aisle 10

I’ve made the executive decision to stop going to the grocery store. I have officially become “that lady” to my local retail workers. That lady who cries near the pork ribs. That lady who cries on the candy aisle. That lady who cries in the checkout line. It’s not uncommon to find me digging for a tissue in the bottom of my purse, cart strategically tucked at the end of the aisle, trying not to block any of the other shoppers. There is always one employee who offers a consoling smile. Occasionally a perfect stranger will pat me on the shoulder as if to say “there, there”. Small children huddle behind their moms in fear, asking “why is that lady crying near the Cinnamon Toast Crunch?”

I wish I could say I am triggered by shopping for food, but I’m not. I have no problem picking the best rack of ribs. The candy aisle and I have become great friends. I’m happy to carry on a conversation with the checker hoping to make them smile the same way my Joe always did. It’s not about the shopping.

It’s the ever-loving piped-in music! If I didn’t know any better I would swear Joe is controlling the playlist at every store I visit.

Case in point. Today I stopped off at Walmart for a few things. I tried to hurry and only get what I came for so the Christmas stuff didn’t have time to scream “you’re all alone for the holidays”. I made it from the fresh vegetables all the way to the back of the store for laundry soap. I pushed forward, determined not to cry one single time, ignoring whatever joyful holiday tune was playing over the speakers. After I picked up more Kleenex (imagine that) and a few more things I headed for the self checkout. I was almost home free. The lady in front of me only had a few items left. And then it happened. She had a problem with the price that rang up. So we wait for an associate. And what happens while we wait? THIS SONG COMES ON.

There weren’t enough tissues for those tears. I was never a Luke Combs fan. Not because I didn’t like his music, but because I didn’t really know any of it. But my Joe, he knew all of it, and he found this song one day and sent it to me. He said this was his song for me. I was his beautiful crazy.

Now I am that crazy lady in the grocery store.

But my crazy was beautiful to Joe.

at our favorite little beach – May 2023