Pay It Forward

I went shopping today and there it was again. All of it, smacking me right in the face, the minute I walked in the door. Actually, most stores were stocked the minute Christmas was over; overstocked Christmas items on one aisle, the next holiday rolling in on the next aisle. 

My love/hate relationship with this holiday goes way back. I can remember as early as Junior High School; this holiday causing such a raucous. Thirteen year old girls having flower bouquets delivered to the school and boys coming to school with teddy bears and odd and end stuffed animals, crammed into their book bags; girls and boys alike, waiting to see who got what or more sadly, who didn't.

I turned and practically ran out of the store. I made it to the parking lot and bent over trying to catch my breath. My brain was racing a million miles an hour. I was trying to rationalize what had just happened to me and why. Then I began to cry. I just stood there in that grocery store parking lot; and cried.

I turned and practically ran out of the store. I made it to the parking lot and bent over trying to catch my breath. My brain was racing a million miles an hour. I was trying to rationalize what had just happened to me and why. Then I began to cry. I just stood there in that grocery store parking lot; and cried.

For the lovelorn it can be such an emotionally painful holiday. And if you think I'm being dramatic, then you have obviously never been hurting on this holiday. Hurting from someone you have lost, from someone who has hurt you, or from someone who has no idea you exist.

Seventeen years ago, the first February after I was divorced, I went to Winn Dixie after work. As I walked in, my face was filleted by strings; balloon strings. There were THOUSANDS of balloons in this store and they had all been set loose. Every step I took, they were slapping me in the face, strings swiping across my lips. I was practically spitting the strings out of my mouth as I walked. I’d taken about 15 steps, and my breathing rhythm began to change.  I was gasping for air. I had begun to hyperventilate; INSIDE THE GROCERY STORE.

That day, one of my best friends came to my house, got my grocery list, and went and bought my groceries for me. It was an act of kindness and love I will never forget as long as I live. 

I want women everywhere to know this is why we have girlfriends.  Why our gender looks out for one another, because at one time or another, we have all had the same pain. I don't care how pretty or popular you are, we will all, at some point in our lives, experience this shared pain.

Unite Sisterhood of the “The Horrors of Valentine’s Day” Club. I owe it to someone as one of those pay it forward deals, so if any of you should ever need your groceries bought on that dreaded day, call me, I’m your girl. I will gladly bust through that barrage of balloons to help you out; stumbling through the menagerie of candy and cards to get your gallon of milk. Call me. I owe someone.