Category: A Moment in My Life

A Moment in My Life – March 23, 2023

Jeannie Yee Davis

I scrutinized Facebook for four days and three nights before I caved and accepted my first friend request to join the mega-addicting social platform. Why the scrutiny? Oh, I don’t know. The usual insecurities people tend towards, like what if nobody wanted to be my friend, for starters? I imagined how embarrassing it would be, like in elementary school, standing there feeling naked as the selection line petered out, waiting, hoping not to be the last kid picked for the softball team. Some scars never leave you. These memories help me empathize with people suffering from abandonment issues. Standing there with a thousand mocking eyes upon you, with some snickers adding to your already clammy hands, shaky legs, deafening blood pressure pounding on your temples as you realize you might be the last one standing on the other side of the playground was too much to bear. Nobody, especially not a kid, wants to be in that position, ever. The funny thing was that most of us have been through something similar, yet, kids could be cruel to other kids. 

Fifteen years and over 600 friends later, I still remember the anxiety I experienced as if it were yesterday. As it turned out, I didn’t have to worry about friends. I laugh now at the wasted time I spent worrying. The mood induction for reactions and comments to my posts replaced my fear of friendlessness. Like most things, you don’t even see it coming. It trickles in unexpectedly, like a slow leak in your basement, until the bacteria in the stagnant water become airborne. Then you know it’s there. Has this happened to you? Add a post, wait for reactions and comments, and become bummed when you don’t get the expected responses. I have. I know I’m not alone. It’s disappointing and dispiriting. Everyone wants acceptance, and positive reactions and comments affirm us. The more we get, the more we expect it. Although, like the weather, we can’t predict the same outcome every time. People don’t like or agree with everything. People are busy and only catch some posts. Many friends of mine look but don’t touch. I don’t get it. I think of voyeurs watching you, but I’m sure they have their rationality. There are various reasons people do or don’t do what they do.

Ultimately, none of these matters in the long run. None of this defines us. Social media is entertainment and a means of sharing and connecting with friends and family. That’s it. Plain and simple. At least, that’s what it should be. However, there is some algorithm that gets us addicted to social media. I don’t have an addictive personality but I am guilty of falling prey. I just learned about social media codependency, which explains why my mood depended on the reactions and comments to my posts. I was suffering from social media codependency. Once I had a label for this, it made perfect sense. My eyes opened, and that was my ticket off the funny train heading to Doomville, which was not the direction I headed towards.

Our lives go toward our thoughts. Our thoughts can change the path of our lives, and what we think shapes who we are. As the old saying goes, “the mind is a powerful thing.” It’s also a delicate thing where truth isn’t always black or white but can easily be a tainted shade of gray. A lack of response or an iffy one feels like rejection but may not be. We see what we want to see, which may differ from the truth. Each of us has an inner voice telling us a version of the truth, which reminds me of the Big Kahuna of the “Gidget” fame, where everybody respected and idolized Kahuna for being the super cool guy, a surfer legend. Later, at the movie’s end, he wasn’t as cool as we thought. He was just a glorified man—a version of who he wanted us to see. 

When others decide my thoughts for me, it’s as if the Big Kahuna lives inside my head, telling me how to think and feel—a version he portrays. That’s what I was doing when I let my mood depend on the reactions to my posts. Reactions are great. I love getting them, but I shouldn’t let them make or break me. That’s the addiction issue that leads to mood swings. Understanding this broke the social media chain that bonded me. I no longer expect reactions. Facebook is once again a fun place to visit with no strings attached, and I have a healthy relationship with social media again. 

Did you know about social media codependency? It opened a whole new world for me once I learned about it. It’s easy to abuse social media, which takes the fun out of it and messes with our minds. We must guard ourselves in social media and our minds, thoughts, and emotions. As wonderful as social media could be, it could be equally damaging if we’re not careful. With that said, enjoy social media, but stay vigilant. Protect your mind because your mind will make or break you. Nobody will watch out for you but you, so you must guard where the Big Kahuna lives.

A Moment in My Life – March 22, 2023

Jeannie Yee Davis

There is one thing I know for sure. Everybody is in search of their happy place. That’s the only common denominator. Arriving at the goal is as unique as our DNA. Some are similar, while others may raise an eyebrow. Some turn to dreams to bridge their sanity, which is fine if it doesn’t interfere with reality. Someone chose the fortune cookie factory as her happy place. Okay. Sweets spread a smile. I accept that. For me, my happy place was writing my column every day. I long for those days when a song or a conversation inspired me to get on the page and bring the idea to life. It was the most satisfying victory to reach the end of the page. It’s been a while since I last wrote a column, and far between that one. My column-writing days were my happiest, but at some point, my groove was not grooving. I may need a vacation. I had not taken a day off since my column’s debut. Writers like Eugene O’Neill wrote 24/7 with a story in front and behind him on two desks. Eugene probably had helpers caring for his affairs, freeing him to write. For this girl, if I don’t do it, it won’t get done. If it’s not working, it’s time to try a fresh approach.

We change—life changes. Situations change. Even our happy place. Have you ever returned to a place disappointed it no longer looked, felt, or was the same as you remembered? For me, it was Skagway, Alaska. 2019, no longer mirrored Skagway 1998. That was an unsurprising stretch since life near me has changed significantly pre- to post-pandemic. Expecting to find our happy place intact is a tall order. If you find it, hold on to it with dear life. You’re the lucky one.

For the rest of us, we have to adapt to the changes. Nothing stays the same forever. Life is about advancing to the next step, having a purpose, improving and growing to be the best we can be, and making life worthwhile under whatever circumstances. Everybody changes. Some of us change together, while others change apart. That’s reality.

The alternative to change is remaining stagnant. If you don’t change, you’re not growing and fulfilling the full potential that you may not know you had. If you’re not living, you’re dying slowly. I know someone who stopped living after he retired and has been waiting to die. He’s been blessed with over 25 years in retirement and is still waiting to check out. That is devastating to me when you think of those people who fight to live but check out prematurely, thanks to health challenges. We will all die one day, but until then, why not enjoy everything this life offers if you are physically and mentally able? It’s a journey full of possibilities for anybody who welcomes it. If it comes your way, accept it. Only some people get the invitation.

The beauty of change is the opportunity to reevaluate our purpose. Purpose gives us a reason to wake up each day. Like the retiree waiting to die, he equated his job to his purpose. When his job ended, so did his life. He was old school and failed to recognize that change meant building a new life that could be the best yet. Without knowing it, we’re creating a new life in small degrees. If I’m unhappy, my first step is reassessing my cognitive views. Remove what wasn’t working and adopt positive attributes to create a new life that will keep everything fresh, alive, and organic. Staying in a toxic position isn’t healthy for anybody involved. We don’t need a significant overhaul but must know when to let go and rebuild. Everything happens for a reason, including people. People come into our lives for a time. Sometimes, they stay a lifetime—other times, a season. They served a purpose when we needed them, and vice versa. Nothing will take away those cherished moments, but we may not be together forever.

Changing things keeps life interesting, different from yesterday, enjoyable for today, and something to look forward to tomorrow. If you are exactly where you always wanted to be and live the life that makes you happy, enjoy it. No need to change, but if you find yourself searching for your happy place, it’s time to rebuild and try something new. Regardless if the past were ideal or not, most likely, it would differ from how you remember it. All we can do is keep moving forward, be our best selves, and live our best lives. We have more control than we think. There’s no sense retracing our steps on this journey to our happy place. Be happy. Be brave. Travel to uncharted territories, and know we won’t be leaving by the same road we came by.

A Moment in My Life – January 31, 2023

Jeannie Yee Davis

I knew it might happen. I worked all year to prepare for December. I saw the pattern from the previous three years, which led me to believe it might happen again, and it did with a vengeance like no prior year, mind you. I swear each year got a little worse with this last December, the heaviest, deepest dive into the well of darkness than ever.

All year round, every single day, I woke up, and I pumped positivity onto my FB wall, hoping to lift others who awakened in dire need of a pick-me-up or were not quite a happy camper and needed a bit of reinforcement to start the day. Some wanted to jumpstart their day with a smile. We’re all human and need something to smile about each day. I tried to deliver a redeeming, sobering message of hope for everybody who needed, welcomed, and appreciated it. Creating witty captions upon gorgeous skyscapes brought me joy, and sharing them with others cheered me up as much as it did them.

Many people have said that I am always happy and inspiring and the most positive person they know. It’s true. I am optimistic, but it doesn’t always come naturally. Like anything else, I have to work at it. I strive for an uplifting outlook on everything that comes my way, but being human, I live with the trials of mood swings, good days, and bad—waking up on the wrong side of the bed—things not going my way. We must deal with life challenges, disappointments, and people who rub us wrong or intentionally aim to hurt us. There are plenty of unexpected circumstances that throw us into a loop. We deal with come what may and, as challenging as it is, maintain a positive attitude amid adversity.

The unfortunate thing about maintaining a sense of happy is that people assume we are always happy and nothing can penetrate us. They don’t think we may have a bad day. We do, but we don’t show it to avoid spreading negativity. They assume nothing can take us down, which would be fantastic if that were true. I would love to always be in a good mood 24/7. That’s unrealistic, though. It’s human to feel emotions, and it is healthy to verbalize our feelings and not hide them. I am verbal. I’ve voiced when I’m not a happy camper. It’s interesting the response I got. Nobody seemed concerned or fazed by it.

When you’re in the deep dive of depression, it feels like an empty canyon with miles of nothing and nobody around to hear you scream. You are all alone even though smiling people are all around you, but they see nothing, hear nothing, and feel nothing that is clawing at you. You think nobody cares—you feel unloved and alone. Depression does that to you. It spats lie after lie until it buries you under its weight, immobilizing you.

There is nothing lonelier than feeling alone with people all around going about their business, paying you no attention, especially during the holidays. It’s the saddest time of the year for some folks, and it has become that for me. Knowing this, I prepared myself for the darkness, but some challenges must take place no matter what you do. It’s in the cards. I will keep trying to beat the odds. I don’t want to relive this past December when it felt like the world turned against me.

When I thought things couldn’t get worse, they did. I had a scary jab in the nose accident in the shower that left me bleeding endlessly. Luckily, I stopped the bleeding, avoiding a trip to ER. As frightening as that incident was, it was just the beginning. A few hours later, an elderly lady didn’t see me and slammed her SUV into my little car, giving me my first fender bender. That incident also rendered my trunk latch unresponsive. Like anybody else, I was screaming, “Enough!” But it wasn’t over yet. My car battery stranded me, luckily, in my garage. Praise God. AAA came to the rescue with a jumpstart. Hallelujah. Two days later, both key fob batteries died. You know you’re going nowhere fast or slow. After replacing the batteries, my car didn’t fire up as expected. What is going on, people? Initially, it was probably the cold temperature. Long story short, the battery gave up its ghost and needed replacing. Enough? Nope. Not yet. Come Christmas Eve, just as everybody closed up shop early for Christmas, my dishwasher broke and flooded my kitchen, destroying my wooden floor. Now, enough? Oh yeah. No kidding. It was enough before any of this happened.

It was bad enough feeling the aloneness, but when challenges like these happen, you can quickly spiral deeper into depression and to the point of no return, but realistically, bite the bullet and fight back. This isn’t true for everyone. Some people may not survive so many ordeals in a short time. I’m a survivor. Take responsibility, and deal with come what may, as you have heard me say.

Regardless of the lousy hand dealt me, I still look for a silver lining in every situation. If you look, you will find, and I did. As depressing as these physical ordeals were, in hindsight, they were what I needed to distract me from my depression. Each incident was traumatic enough and timely spaced to force my attention away from my depression but not so devastating that I couldn’t bounce back from it.

Since I fell into depression the last few years, I thought I could beat it this time, but I couldn’t prepare for any of them. Each depression is unique. Different triggers spiral you into a realm all on their own, meaning I will learn a new lesson next December, which I am not looking forward to, just like no two people can experience the same depression, but it is what it is. This began with Mark’s untimely passing and is something I must work through. Knowing this will happen, I need to guard myself with solid and positive surroundings, which I failed to prepare this time. I started with low self-esteem and exhaustion—both candidates for the devil to make himself at home. Once he enters, he tells you lies that nobody cares. You’re unloved and unworthy to be loved; before long, you’re too weak to fight him, and you believe him. Then your universe collapses.

It’s true. I was all alone during my darkest period, but in hindsight, that was what I needed. I had to search within myself and reassess my life and who I am. I needed to scrutinize everything I was doing to ensure that I was advancing along the right path, and it was a journey I had to take alone. Once I understood this, I no longer felt alone or unloved. God set it up in a way that gave me the space I needed to do this exercise without people influencing me. Once I completed this task, the people stepped back into the picture, wrapping their love around me.

Everything works together for a reason. We are not alone, even when we feel alone. It is sometimes necessary for our good to be alone. Of all unlikely people, I fell into a prolonged depression this December and only found myself a few days ago. It is good to find myself again. It’s a fabulous feeling to feel like me again. I disliked being depressed, but I learned much about myself and restored what I needed. My beautiful little car has a brand-new car battery, a restored trunk latch, new key fob batteries, and my baby is as good as new. I have no permanent damage to my nose. My dishwasher has a replaced valve that will outlast the dishwasher. My floors, well, they are as good as they can be.

Each depression is unique, some worse than others. We should not take it likely. I always recommend people talk to someone and do whatever it takes to get out of the rut. I was verbal about being down in the dumps, but in my case, it didn’t generate conversations, which was perturbing at first, but in the end, I understood it wasn’t what I needed to overcome this plight. I had to go through the motions to learn that, but I survived it a better me. Nobody is beneath depression. Even someone like me, who is always happy, can’t escape it. I am living proof that we are stronger than the devil who tries to trip us up. Try as I did to avoid depression, but I am human, and it can happen to me.

A Moment in My Life – Thursday, October 27, 2022

Jeannie Yee Davis

In my previous column, “Just Like That,” I weighed whether to call Ratish for a date. Before I decided, Ratish began texting me, and we started a friendship by getting to know one another. Straight off the bat, unintentionally, we did what my niece said young people do these days, and that’s “define the relationship.” Back in the day when I was dating, there was no such thing as defining the relationship, per se. You dated, and if all went well, the natural progression was to go steady, which led to engagement and marriage. Times have changed, and defining the relationship makes sense. Before we got to the talk about going on a date, we revealed differing relationship objectives. My poor heart sank as there was no apparent solution to bridge our differences. He was doing me a favor in his mind because we could satisfy each other’s needs since we were both single, straight, and available. He has a good point. He does. If only being friends with benefits worked for me.

I am thankful that he respects my decision, even though he wouldn’t mind being “friends with benefits” until my Mr. Right comes along. Well, that’s quite noble of him. I repeat, if only “friends with benefits” did it for me, our relationship would be so simple, and it would be a win-win for us both. Maybe for some folks, but me, it has never worked, and I doubt it ever would, just like I hope but suspect that he wouldn’t suddenly want a long-term relationship over a casual let’s-get-together-for-fun one. He left the ball in my court with, “let me know if you change your mind,” which meant that it was over before it started because I won’t be changing my mind.

What we have here is a modern-day Romeo and Juliette unrequited love story. Both are waiting for love to strike simultaneously in the same way. It’s a fairy tale wish our fairy godmother could sprinkle her magic dust to change one of our minds. Preferably his—as he matures and becomes ready for a long-term commitment. I know he would have me change my mind. For now, the obvious choice—let this one go. Like Tic Tac Toe, it’s better not to play the game. Playing will not lead to a happy ending for either of us.

Ending by choice still hurts and is sad and rejecting any way you cut it. Why couldn’t we both have love on the brain? He probably thought the same thing, but instead, why couldn’t I have sex on the brain? That’s why he probably kept checking in with me when I was so sure I’d never hear from him again after I set my boundaries early on. I kept thinking he would have found someone else and moved on. Yet, I heard from him week after week, and my mouth dropped. Why? What part of not wanting the same thing did he not understand? Eventually, I caught on. He checked in just in case I changed my mind. I guess this is when the word flattering comes into play.

Even though he knew he wouldn’t have his way, he still wanted to see me. After a while, I finally agreed to meet him in a public place to avoid temptation. I told myself that this was necessary to help him cut the ties. I was so sure that once he saw me again, he’ll realize that there wasn’t anything special about me and would lose interest, and that’s that. Then, he would forget about me and move on.

To my surprise, when he saw me, he said I was hot and sexy. I turned left and right to see who he was talking to. Oh, me! Hot? Sexy? Where did that come from? I’ve never heard or thought of either word in the same sentence as my name in my entire life. I’m just me, trying to be the best version of myself. I’m so not hot or sexy. I can only dream. I like the idea of being sexy, just a little, not too much, but I honestly never thought about it, so I have to admit, having a guy say that about me got me doing the happy dance.

It’s still too early to tell whether this is the end of the road for him, too, but I would be okay with being friends with benefits differently than his version. I could see friends with benefits coming in handy when we need a plus one for an event, which sure beats attending alone. I don’t know if we could go there. If nothing else, I’m thankful that Ratish came into my life, distracted me from routine, and allowed me to feel like a schoolgirl again for a couple of months. He renewed all those little nuances of anticipation and excitement of a new relationship long forgotten. Everybody needs to be wanted and loved, and I am no different. Ratish wants me, but that’s not enough for me. I like the real deal, the balance of a complete, deep, and meaningful relationship where my guy will want me and love me at my best, worst, sexy, and everything in between. When I meet my special guy, I don’t want to compromise my objectives, meaning it will have to be love on the brain and not something else.

A Moment in My Life – Friday, October 7, 2022

Jeannie Yee Davis

All I wanted for Christmas last year was to experience a Hallmark romance of my own. That thought can be daunting since many Hallmark romances begin with a disconnect between the prospective couple in an unexpected circumstance. I could do without the trauma drama disconnect, but I’m okay with meeting Mr. Right under the least expected circumstances. When Christmas came and went without a glimmer of Santa’s present somewhere in my humble abode, I filed away Christmas and returned to my reclusive life. My Christmas wish poofed with a snap of my fingers. What was I thinking? I’m a grown-up practical modern-day woman relying on Santa for a wish to come true! Before long, my sensibility sent me down my mega to-do list, tending to my projects by priority. Soon, everything holiday-related faded to another calendar page on top of the previous calendar years.

If you don’t go anywhere, the chances of encountering unexpected circumstances are a moot point. The pandemic does not help. Every day, the Covid numbers rose with a new variant mutation, and I retreated deeper into hermit life. I encountered zero social life for six months as my way of keeping out of trouble. You never know who you might catch the virus from, when, how, or where, but like it or not, at some point, I knew I had to stop being a fraidy cat and do what needed to be done. For starters, my six-year-old modem has troubled me for quite a while, and it finally refused to transmit a byte of data. The reason I survived the looney farm as a hermit was my cyber world, my only means of human connection, which meant if a stranger needed to come inside my home to get my Wi-Fi working, then so be it.

Of course, when you have a technical problem, it’s not easily fixable, as in my case. Conceivably, I should be able to resolve my issue with a couple of easy steps, but nope. That would’ve been too simple. Instead, a live technical person needed to service my call. Imagine my dismay at having a potential virus-spreading person inside my home—not a good feeling, but I wanted my internet problem resolved more than I feared the virus.

When the service guy arrived, I opened the door, and my eyes went skyward to meet the eyes of the tall, dark, and handsome man in a fluorescent service vest. I was glad he couldn’t see my mouth fall open under my mask. He immediately put on his mask, following my lead. He asked what the problem was, and I was a bubbling idiot trying to form logical sentences. I was glad I had jotted down the issues that needed servicing before I became distracted.

After the initial awkward greeting, we worked together well. Ratish didn’t mind my inquisitive curiosity, allowing me to follow him and watch what he did. Everything fascinated him. He noticed around my place, pointing out all the purple, like a kid at an amusement park. He said, “Your outfit is even purple. I like it,” pointing to my two-tone purple tee and lavender jeans. I glanced at my clothes, surprised that he was so amused since I dressed, not to impress. He commented on how much he liked my purpleness; now, purple is one of his favorite colors.

During this service call, I was uptight, concerned that I might have residual internet problems, while Ratish was the total opposite of me, with his carefree amusement. His easygoingness and willingness to answer all of my questions helped put me at ease. Once we covered everything a few times over, he gave me his cell number and said, “Call me anytime if you have questions or problems or want a date.” 

What did he just say? Did he say, “a date”? I didn’t comment as I followed him out the front door, replaying his words in my head. He turned around, and when I saw the playfulness in his eyes, I realized I had heard him correctly. Then I said, “A date, huh?

“Yeah. Just call me.” Ratish leaned against the doorframe as the butterflies fluttered in my tummy. For the first time in a long time, I forgot everything that needed to get done. Instead, I floated up to meet his eyes, and my Christmas wish came true just like that.

A Moment in My Life – Friday, August 19, 2022

Jeannie Yee Davis

What would it look like if you could choose the kind of day to live? “Would you rather live one perfect day over and over or live your life with no perfect days but just decent ones?” Jenny Han posed this question in her novel “The Summer I Turned Pretty,” and it has been dancing in my head since I read it. I wonder what I would choose. I never quite thought about it, but I strive for a perfect day every day. In real life, there is no such thing as a perfect day, or is there? Perhaps there is, but it wasn’t in my deck of cards. Was it in yours?

What would a perfect day look like to me? I imagine it beginning with a gorgeous sunrise unique from the day before, a gentle breeze, and a whiff of fresh, clean air as I sip from a hot cup of joe that remains hot to the last sip—flocks of birds in formation flying into my sunrise just as I click the photo. That’s what a perfect morning looks like to me. The rest of my day would look pretty much the same, with everything falling in place seamlessly. I think the gist of it would mean my plans working out without issues. People I want to socialize with will be available, and we’d have an amiable, pleasant time together—family gatherings where everybody gets along without discord. Peace and harmony surround me, and that sounds perfect. 

That does sound lovely, but would I be happy living this same day over and over? Although, I am a creature of habit who lives in routines. I have my daily morning routine checklist, but that’s only to ensure I get the must-do’s done because my to-do list is longer than the days of my life. I get tired of doing the same things all the time. I need a break and change occasionally. I long for weekends, days off, and vacations where I deviate from the same-old, same-old. Some of you know that I’m a song repeater. I once played the same song on repeat for two weeks. Oh, how I loved that song. As much as I loved that piece, I eventually needed a change. So, would I want to live the same perfect day for the rest of my life? 

If you think about it, perfection is subjective. My definition of perfect is not yours, so how would we simultaneously survive on a perfect day? We would need variety, just like shopping in a store. The whole purpose behind vendors providing more and more merchandise to choose from is because no two people like all of the same things. I am a sun lover and a fan of summer. Many people I know prefer the fog and wintry weather, which means if we’re living in the same space, one of us won’t be a happy camper. How does that work?

You know what, though? If we live a perfect day every day, I think that limits our full potential on many levels. We need the dark to see the light, the bad to appreciate the good, and the lessons we encounter to learn and grow. My belief, we don’t know what we don’t know until we know. The only way to achieve that is by encountering unexpected situations when we least expect them. When things aren’t perfect, we learn a lot about ourselves and one another by working together to remedy a problem, find a solution, or fix something that broke. As Jenny Han said, “It’s the imperfections that make things beautiful.” A great sense of joy accosts me when I suddenly see the beauty I haven’t seen before. It’s the little pleasures of life. It’s a means to see people differently when life isn’t perfect. 

Now that I had a chance to think on this topic, I prefer to live life with no perfect days but just decent ones with perfect moments every day. Having a perfect moment each day raises our happy hormones, which can float us through the day. That doesn’t mean we can’t hope for a perfect day. Hope flows us through life. We need hope to get out of bed, to do the things that we do, something to look forward to that gives us meaning to live every day. The unknown adds to the flavors of life—making and keeping it exciting and the world spinning around the way it needs to be. As Forrest Gump said, “Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re gonna get.” And that adds just the right amount of mystery to make a day perfect yet unique.

I am passionate about capturing gorgeous sunrises and sunsets, but I desire unique photoshoots, even if they aren’t perfect. The beauty of my endeavor is how to capture the best photo with what I have to work with, and that makes it perfect. On the same token, as much as I love sunshine, it’s a lot of fun to dance in the rain. There is a time and place for everything, and it is such a blessing the world is the way it is, giving us a little of everything to enjoy that I’d gladly forfeit living a perfect day every day.

That’s just my take. Now, your turn. I would love to hear your take on this subject. Delight my ears, my friends, and tell me, would you prefer a perfect day over and over or a not-so-perfect one?

A Moment in My Life – Friday, August 12, 2022

Jeannie Yee Davis

Often, it seems I turn on the news only to hear about some violent crimes of hatred erupting in the world. Sure, there are scary neighborhoods in every city with enough ugliest filling the streets, adding fear to the old-timers who once felt safe walking alone. Then there are the scams that happen right under your nose in a supermarket where nobody cares, not even the staff. We can’t control all the bad things that happen. I never understand why people have to do bad things. Why do they have to hurt people, cheat them, steal from them, or whatever? Every action is a choice we consciously make. Realistically, we can’t and shouldn’t let fear prevent us from living. 

It is comforting to know life isn’t absolute. It’s not all or none. There is still love and kindness and good people out there. I grew up in a world where my sisters and I walked to our elementary school without supervision. Parents these days gasp hearing such a thing. But we must remember that life does continue as if nothing is wrong in the world. We should always be cautious of our surroundings, but we should continue to trust that there is good in people. 

It doesn’t take much to show a little kindness that makes all the difference to someone’s day. I can speak from first-hand experience about the smile that tattooed itself on my face while an exhilarating joy filled my core in response to the little acts of kindness I recently received. What makes it an act of kindness is that it was unexpected.

Did you know they have a wine merchant at Costco? I did not. While perusing the wine aisle looking for a small bottle of wine, I was intrigued by a wine from Italy that was on sale. I don’t know the top end from the bottom end of a bottle of wine, but this bottle fits my size requirement. A moment later, I returned to ponder the wine further when Gio, the wine merchant, who was dusting the bottles earlier, approached me and started a conversation. He punched up information from his device about the wine and read it to me. He gave me a lot of food for thought. For starters, it was a dessert wine that sounded yummy but was not suitable for my plan. Now, Costco typically doesn’t have service where staff assists you with products, so Gio gave me service above and beyond, which made my day. This wasn’t the first time I received terrific treatment at Costco. My Costco does have the best staff. Another time, the staff person rang up my purchases for me, and I was in the self-check station. Not something you would hear every day.

Last evening, after completing a big project, I decided to treat myself to the Red Lobster Throwback Thursday deal of the day. I’ve done that from time to time during the pandemic. Life is short. We have to treat ourselves once in a while. I didn’t expect the act of kindness from the server who handed me my takeout order. I asked him if I got biscuits this time. He gave me a questioning look. I explained that once, I didn’t get any biscuits. Immediately, without further ado, he said to wait for him right there, and he ran off, returning with a piping hot bag of biscuits and handed it to me. It didn’t matter that I had biscuits in my bag already. He was customer-focused and kept me a happy customer, and his act of kindness floated me the rest of the night. 

If you look, you will find acts of kindness like when my gardener trimmed my roses, cut a few stems, and left them on my porch for me to enjoy. Or, the secretary at my church bought an assortment of tote bags for an event, and there was one purple tote, so she saved it for me.

When the world is grumpy, impatient, and in a hurry, it becomes the norm to expect zombies from other cars on the road. Once in a rare blue moon, I turned and made eye contact with the driver in the truck to the right of me. So, I nodded and smiled, and to my surprise, he reciprocated with a big smile and a wave. I don’t know about him, but that floated my boat. Another time, I waited to pull out from the parking lot. Across the street from my metallic grey Veloster, a young man sat behind the wheel of a white Veloster that mirrored me, also waiting for the road to clear. I stared at him, and when we made eye contact, I pumped my thumb at him, and his face lit up, and he responded with a thumbs up. We smiled as we made our respective turns in the opposite direction onto the road. It is human to connect, especially with a common bond.

Whenever I see passersby on my daily walk, I always make eye contact, and mostly, not always, people are friendly, and we smile, wave, nod, and so on, and it brings such joy to my heart. It’s people that make the world a whole lot better. It’s people who keep the world going round. Just like the people in my FB world, who let me know they are out there and care by participating in my cyberworld. Their interactions add little acts of kindness to my day, which means the world to me. 

These people and there are more out there, probably don’t even know it, but they add to my happiness just by their kindnesses. As I said, we have to be cautious about our surroundings, but we can’t let fear stop us from living and enjoying our lives or trusting that there is still good in people. And with that said, I will end here so I can go and scope out the little acts of kindness in my life.

A Moment in My Life – Friday, May 20, 2022

Jeannie Yee Davis

Just when I thought the past was buried and gone, never to be seen or thought of again, then Patsy Cline mournfully belts out her story of heartbreak. My fingers froze over my keyboard. My eyes stared inwardly into my mind’s eye as Patsy’s sweet voice deposited her sad story in my ears. 🎶 “I was dancing with my darling to the Tennessee Waltz. When an old friend I happened to see. I Introduced her to my loved one, and while they were dancing, my friend stole my sweetheart from me. I remember the night and the Tennessee Waltz. Now I know just how much I have lost,”🎶 and a choke tightened in my throat as memories unleashed an old familiar story from the dusty archive of my mind that I couldn’t ignore.  

It wasn’t “The Tennessee Waltz,” but it was a dance with songs like “Lady,” “Being With You,” “Woman,” “Slow Hand,” and “Keep On Loving You” that glistened under the disco ball. I happened to see my friend just like in the song, and I introduced her to my guy. Unlike the song, they did not dance. For some reason, she needed a ride home, and I did what a good friend would do. I begged my boyfriend for a favor. He didn’t say, but his face grimaced with displeasure. Yet, he agreed to give her a ride. Despite my gut feeling, I was delighted and grateful to have such a sweet boyfriend who would give my girlfriend a ride without complaint. He seated her in the backseat of his Celica hatchback and me in the front passenger seat. His unusual quiet filled the cabin with a dismal chill of silence that rendered me unsociable. 

To my surprise, my boyfriend drove me home first. I was too stunned and shy to ask why. Maybe it’s just me, but I expected him to drop her off first before taking me home. The clicks from my heels tapping on the ground replaced unspoken words on our brief walk to my door. We stood a foot apart and stared into each other’s eyes on the porch, searching for answers to different questions that never got asked. He leaned in and softly kissed my forehead and said, “Goodbye.” I watched him turn and walk away as if in slow motion, and the scene faded into the fog as they do in the movies. I have no recollection of what happened after that. I never heard from or saw him again. I have to give him credit that he did say, “Goodbye.”  

I saw my girlfriend in school from time to time. She didn’t have to say anything to confirm my suspicion. I knew. She smelled of his shampoo. We remained friends into early adulthood, but we never spoke about the elephant in the room. Eventually, we three went our separate ways. I say this because she married some guy I don’t know. And, you probably figured it out, she is not one of my BFFs. 

It’s sad. I can forgive pretty much anything, but I need words. I need to understand. Neither he nor she gave me the respect of answers, and that’s sad. It tells me a lot about their character. He was my first ghosting before I knew about ghosting. It would have been nice had he told me what wasn’t working, even if it were the dreaded, “It’s not you, it’s me,” or “I’ve fallen for someone else,” or “this is not working for me,” or whatever. At least give me the respect to know that we were breaking up and why instead of just saying goodbye. And now, I know just how much I have lost—nothing, unlike she did in “The Tennessee Waltz.”