Opening a Window

I lost my shit in a Publix parking lot on Sunday. The day began auspiciously enough. Jake made himself and Marleigh eggs for breakfast and by the time I exited my room around 8:30, the kitchen was clean and dishes were rinsed in the sink. By 12:45, I was exhausted, spent, worn out from the antagonizing, yelling, whining, pinching, fighting, name calling, and moans of, “I don’t want a Publix sub!" and fierce even toned mutters of, “I’m NOT getting a haircut.”

As we exited the Master Cuts, I threw my hands in the air and proclaimed, loudly it seems, “That’s it! I’m done! Get in the car!” I raised my head to catch the shocked expressions across the lot and

figured, “Screw it” as the tears began to come.

I entered the car crying, along with my shocked seven and nine year old. My head hit the steering wheel and I took a few deep breaths. I started talking to the kids, who by this time had also began crying. Mom of the Year.  A tap, tap, tap came from the outside of the driver’s window. I looked up to find a middle-aged woman wearing a soft smile peering into our debacle. I rolled down the window and she immediately started to rub my back. It wasn’t weird. It was kind.

“You’re having a breakdown. It’s okay. We all have them. I had one.” She reassured me. I grinned. How do you not grin at a stranger who has chosen not to be a bystander and judge your lunacy, but instead reach out and check on you while also admitting to lunacy? She immediately asked me if the children were going to be okay. I promised her yes. Yes, my children will be fine. She asked me if believed in God. I told her yes. She looked straight into my eyes and spoke. “It’s time for you to pray for courage, patience, and control.” She wasn’t wrong. She left.

I pulled myself out of my exhausted, pity hole and apologized for scaring the kids. They understood the frustration. They took ownership. A few lessons were learned from mom losing her shit. As we were ready to exit the car, the woman returned. She handed me some religious pamphlets and told me the answers were in there. I believe her. I’m not going to reach out to the religion. The pamphlets will be recycled, unread. It’s not about religion. It’s about the power of kindness, compassion, and action. It’s a common teaching found in all religious texts. And on this Sunday, I was lucky enough to be its recipient.