This summer the time seems to have spiraled out of control. I can’t possibly do all the fun things that are presenting themselves at every turn, let alone the boring lame chore-type things.
Last week we had a really fun visit from Dan’s aunt and uncle and 8 of their kids. They stayed for 3 days during which time we saw every site there is to see in the Greater Seattle Area. We had a blast hanging out with them and cooking food for their 5 voracious and appreciative teenage boys. I so love cooking for people who eat more than 2 teaspoons of their meal and who repeatedly tell me what a fabulous cook I am.
Well, as you can imagine, things were crazy. Laylee and Magoo were wired and hero-worshipful of the cousins and we were WAY off schedule. Complicate that with the fact that my life-sustaining device of communication and organization bit the big one right before they arrived and I was pretty much adrift in a tide of vacationism.
I’d ordered peaches weeks before in a bulk group order run by a very organized woman. She had spreadsheets and a process. She gave each person a pickup time that Thursday and told us we needed to be precisely punctual in order to get our fruit. If we did not come and get our fruit, we would jeopardize future bulk fruit orders. Very serious business, all of it.
So, my pickup time was 9:20am on the Thursday that the relatives were visiting. My digital calendar with the handy reminders was laying black-screened on the counter like a technological dead fish. I’d forgotten about the peaches I’d ordered. I’d forgotten that it was Thursday. I’d forgotten that my name was Kathryn and how many children I had.
Right as we were about to leave for sightseeing, about 9:40am, I was browsing my email when I noticed the alert about the peaches. “Don’t let me forget to pick up the fruit on Thursday, okay?”
“It is Thursday!”
So I began running around the house like a headless poultry, grabbing the kids under each arm, making plans to meet up with everyone later and muttering about how Fruit Lady was gonna find me and kill me in my sleep. Then the phone rang.
It was my friend Linda, who I hadn’t seen in months. She was picking up her fruit and noticed my name on the list. She thought things must be crazy for me at home with 2 little kids and wondered if I wanted her to buy my fruit and bring it to my house.
It seems like a small thing but I got teary-eyed, grateful that she’d thought of me, grateful that she didn’t shrug off the thought but called me and offered to help. It was just one more entry in my mental list of examples of why you should never hesitate when the thought pops into your head that you could do something to help someone else out.
The list includes people who brought me dinner when they had no idea I was having trouble, people who stopped by randomly to say hi only to find I was trapped at home with sick kids and then offered to do a quick grocery run for me. Last week, I was having a tough time in blog land, sick of writing, sick of being criticized for the personal thoughts I send out into the interwebs. Not even knowing this, one of my bloggy friends wrote a way-too-kind post about how much she loves my site and it gave me just the boost I needed to keep writing.
My point. Don’t hesitate. I have never regretted doing something nice for someone.