Every morning after i drop the kids at school i stop at the little community grocery and buy a large tea, loaded with sugar and milk. My stomach has refused the coffee i used to love and has switched me to the gentler buzz of earl grey.
This morning as i pulled in there was a large group of a dozen or so men loitering outside, coffee cups in hand and smokes dangling from a few mouths. Their mood was melancholy, but one of camaraderie. Friendship. I walked through the crowd feeling a little self-conscious among so many men. As i paid i made a comment about the group, that it was like a men's club meeting. She told me it wasn't a happy thing. That a man had died last night on the icy highway. He was one of them. A contractor, a developer, a worker. Ralph. They were all in shock.
I glanced through the windows again. Noticing something different. They weren't actually chatting. Just standing around in small circles. Bewildered and dazed. Unsure of what to say. Somehow they had all converged on the little store. The store where, in this small town, we all stop on our way, to or from, here or there.
Each wandering through as our lives fill with struggle and success, joy and sorrow. We know the faces of the people we pass. We know his brother, his son, his cousin. This is life in a small town.
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This was such a poignantly beautiful post that I felt compelled to comment.
Stinging eyes and nose, mouth filling up with that teary-tasting stuff that I get before I start to cry...this post touched me.
Thank you.
Posted by Bebe | February 12, 2009 6:18 AM