By Mandy Feder —
“We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.” ? Oscar Wilde
Monday morning and the line at the bank is so long.
The guy in front of me is organizing his calendar on his cellphone and the woman in front of him is exchanging playful banter with her toddler who is sitting on her shoulders.
I am writing out bills and organizing items inside of my purse.
We were all sort of eying the clock so we can get on with the beginning of the new week.
The tellers are trying to quickly accommodate all of the fidgety customers, myself included.
I hear someone say, “ouch,” first in a soft voice and then twice more, amplified a bit each time.
Cellphone guy and I turn around to identify the source of the pained sounds.
After seeing a woman, about my age half-slumped on the island where you write out the transactions, cellphone guy and I quickly face forward again. I got the sense that neither of us wanted to be invasive or make her feel self-conscious.
Ignore it. That”s what we did.
“Ouch,” she said again. When I turned again, she looked embarrassed. Before I could think, I spoke. I do that sometimes without meaning to.
“Hey, are you OK?”
The whites of her eyes were yellow. Her skin was gray. Her clothing was wrinkled and her hair was greasy.
“Everything hurts. It hurts to move,” she said. “I am terminal. Sometimes I just wish I was dead,” she told me.
She needed a liver transplant and was no longer eligible, because she would die on the operating table, she told me.
I put my hand over my mouth. I couldn”t think of a single comforting word or anything to offer.
I finally just said, “I”m sorry.” She asked me if I thought she should get into the line for disabled people.
I told her I thought it was a good idea. She struggled to get to the chair and laid her head on the counter until it was her turn. She was patient.
Since she was behind of a bunch of people the teller had her wait and I understood the rationale. When it was my turn I asked the teller to take care of her first because she was in a lot of pain.
When I was leaving, she grabbed my sleeve. “Thank you. God bless you,” she said. I told her it was no problem.
She was dying, but she was still taking care of business. She was still courteous.
Ummm, that was sort of an epiphany moment for me. I am embarrassed to say that when I have as much as a headache, I can be impatient and a little snappy.
Her behavior was heroic.
I thought to myself that it is easy to say what you would do in any given situation when it”s theoretical. I would like to think I would behave as she did, but I doubted it.
Who are you in the face of adversity? I asked myself. I don”t know how I would act if I was dealt that hand.
That is not a mere inconvenience; it”s about mortality.
I do not know her name or her back story, but she gave me the gift of gratitude, a reminder about patience and character this holiday season.
Thanks lady for showing me the stars.
“Look at the stars. Look how they shine for you, and everything you do. Yeah, they were all yellow.” — Coldplay
Mandy Feder is the Record-Bee managing editor. She can be reached at mandyfeder@yahoo.com or 263-5636 ext. 32.
