Every day, I deliver to folks who represent all walks of life; their income levels, ages, and backgrounds drastically vary. And of course, everyone is experiencing random stages of life, dealing with different responsibilities -- work, family, internal battles, injuries, successes, failures, setbacks, losses, and on and on, ad infinitum.
One moment, I meet retired folks who need assistance bringing groceries into the kitchen. In the living room, I notice a beautiful grand piano. The next, I come across a family with ten children, some of which are on the way to school, and three of them help me unload the groceries. Third, a man in a wheelchair greets me at the door. Later, an elderly lady laughs about the wine she ordered. In a back room, I spot shy, long-haired, little girls wearing dresses and fancy glasses. And finally, at the end of the day, a toddler waves at me from the window. She's beaming, excited about the strange, seemingly magical visitor bringing "presents." Certainly, I make a tiny Santa, but I think I'd be a good one.
I spy cats, fish and sometimes, horses, goats, chickens, and miniature ponies. Once, an owl. I've heard hawks, roosters, alarms, fire trucks, police cars, laughter, eerie quiet, and fiery arguments. In one part of town, people often drive golf carts and exercise outside in the middle of the day. Children ride bikes and scooters. Sometimes, preteens wander around in twos or threes. In another part of town, no one is outside. The doors are shut. The window air conditioners are dripping on the porches. And down the road, a woman and her newborn greet me at the fountain in front of their mansion. I see couples without a car and couples with five car garages. I notice trees, sculptures, vehicles, people on porches, the colors of houses, the animals, the quiet, and the noise.
I see it all. And the dogs...
One time, a woman opens the door, and two Dobermans appear, one on either side of her. While I unload the groceries, they don't bark, move, or growl. Simply, they look at me. That's it. Another day, I deliver to a farmhouse, and a Rottweiler is furiously gnashing his teeth, barking at me. Luckily, he's on a rope. Once, I knock on the door, and an enormous, female Pit Bull tears out of the apartment, bolting straight toward me. She jumps up on me and licks me. And still another day, I drive up to the house, and I happen to leave my driver's side car door open. When the customer opens the front door, a German Shepherd runs outside and jumps into my car, ready for a ride. And the funniest of all -- one time, when the customer opens the house door, an enormous, tan/white dog escapes. After I make the delivery, I drive around the neighborhood, find the dog, and he jumps in my backseat. And so, I circle and take him back to the house. Afterward, whenever I see him, he shows an interesting absolute adoration for me. When he sees me, he can barely contain himself. I have luck with the animals; they seem to like/accept me. I know when to keep a distance, but there are many surprises.
People often mention injuries or health problems. That's probably the most frequent topic. But many days, they never appear. I just deliver, see a glimpse of the house and maybe, I'll meet a dog. I've been to some houses hundreds of times, and I've never met the folks, but I've met the dogs. How bizarre.
Strange. I flicker in, flicker out. And then, I'm on my way again.
I am a person who likes to move. Even when I'm writing, I'm moving...my mind is moving, that is. This is the perfect job for a person like me, but I barely make enough to get by. I love it, I do. Of course, there are bad days but mostly, I love it. And I especially adore cracking up with all of my friends in the stores. It is a good transition for me.
See, this isn't going to last forever. I have health issues to consider, and I have to make some different moves, due to losing health care soon. I have no idea what's next for me, but I hope my efforts prove to be something that will sustain me in this mess we call an "economy." All around, people are struggling. For the masses, the salaries don't match the cost of living, not even close. And the health care doesn't match the need. Far from it.
Moment to moment, I never know. I take it all in. And then, I come home, and I consider how I could be any one of these folks that I meet. Or I think about this: maybe I have experienced all of these lives before. Or maybe I never have. Maybe we're here once, and there's one shot, and we never return.
The mystery of it all. The strangeness, the unique aspects of human life.
How we struggle, how we rejoice, how we carry on. The similarities are striking. We all have to make different moves. We all struggle and rejoice. We all face trauma. We all have financial issues. We all have health problems. And we all have times of "losing everything" and times of "beginning again."
And as far as I can tell, amidst the hustle, beneath it all, we all have curious hearts that long for the exact same feeling; that is, a feeling of peace and love.
I am on my way somewhere. And so are you.
Love to you,
C.A. MacConnell
P.S. If you like this, you'll like RECOVER WILDLY. Check out my author page too. <3
