Dragonflies

I was having a moment.

I don’t really want to get into why but sadness was at its core.

Naturally, in the midst of sadness came

obstacles

annoyances

frustration.

My day was upended by a to-do list of things I didn’t want to do. Didn’t want to spend time doing.

And then I met Lynne at the appliance store. She didn’t want to be working the day before the 4th of July any more than I wanted to be buying a dryer.

And yet.

She was kind. I was grateful.

She was patient. I was effusive.

We hugged as we parted - both of us recognizing the choice the other made in how we showed up to each other.

And Sarah at the UPS store where I lugged fifteen 20lb boxes filled with my parents' ancient bank statements, old wills, and once important paperwork.

Also among those boxes were the remnants of my law career - briefs and billing statements, transcripts, and filing papers that I’d been holding onto for the requisite time period.

Everything Sarah did made my task easier.

From the hauling cart she gave me so I could bring the entire lot into the store at once, to systematically breaking down and removing the empty boxes without me even realizing it, to silently wheeling out a third shredding container after I’d filled the first two.

The physical work wasn’t hard. But the emotional weight of shredding proof of my lawyering, of detaching myself - finally - from the administrative minutiae in my parents' life was profound.

I said a grateful goodbye to Sarah with tears in my eyes and a lightness in my step.

As I sit on the couch writing this story - after spending the rest of my day focused on my own work, my own fulfilling, delicious, heart-led minutiae, I look up and see dark clouds gathering in the distant sky.

And then, as my vision focuses, I see dozens of dragonflies flitting gracefully between the rosa rugosa off the deck.

Peace in the storm.