Today I gave a friend who has been ill some flowers. She didn’t say thanks, or I appreciate it. She started to cry. They weren’t fancy flowers. They were very humble flowers – I got them at the fruit market. It was such a tiny, tiny gesture.
I started thinking about the things that have happened over the last five months. Specifically, I started thinking about the reaction to the things that have happened over the last five months. Not my reaction. Your reaction.
You met me for lunch the day I knew my marriage was over. You made me eat something when I didn’t really care if I starved to death. You dropped everything, you came and listened even though you couldn’t hear a damn thing I was saying because I was so sick with laryingitis. You didn’t care how bad my work performance got. You placed those mysterious cans of Coke on my desk. You found me a place to live. You offered up your place to crash at. You sent a print I love to my new apartment to arrive exactly when I needed it. You cleaned my kitchen. You helped me paint. You made me take a break. You took me berry picking. You left a comment here. You sent me an email. You called. You checked in and checked in and checked in and you still do.
You probably thought it was a tiny gesture, but it was not.