Today I took a lunch break (something I rarely do) and ventured out to run a few errands. I dropped off some items at the post office. I picked up a prescription and a compact at CVS. I stopped into the grocery store to pick up a few essentials.
I was walking down the frozen food aisle, and I crossed carts with an older lady. As I stood behind her, off to the side, trying to decide between the Lean Cuisine swedish meatballs or the cannelloni, I felt there was something familiar about her. I looked over at her – her back was to me – trying to figure out what it could be. She was tiny, barely 5′ 1," with short hair. It was light in color, like wheat if it had been bleached. She was wearing stretchy, dark-blue pants with a coordinating striped top and sensible shoes. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.
Then it dawned on me.
She reminded me of my mother.
Then my eyes welled up. And I had to step forward and open one of the freezer doors so the blast of cold air could dry my eyes.
Yes. I almost lost it at Publix, halfway between the DiGiorno pizzas and the Weight Watchers two-point entrees. At that point, I grabbed a couple of boxes of Lean Cuisine, threw them in my cart and hauled ass over to the produce section before I could be declared certifiable.
Damn, I really miss my mom. I hate Panama so much right now.