Day 282

I was at checkout registers. One of the store’s associates was chatting about her pet. After gently joshing her about her claim that really her cat rescued her, I mentioned how great Constance’s dog, Otis, is. She inquired as to why I would give away a beloved pet. I explained that my daughter died, her dog, Otis, was a service dog, and so he needed to go help another needy child. She said, “Well, what a story! Is that true?” I replied that it was indeed true and offered to prove it. She shook her hand as if to turn down the notion.

She asked if I had other children and clicked her tongue when I said no.

She tried to comfort with, “Children can be difficult though, always wanting more things.” “Do they? Constance wasn’t like that but she was an exceptionally great kid,” I commented.

She continued, “Children are important because they keep you feeling young and they take care of you in your old age,” she said. Then as if the magnitude of what she just said and who she just said it to hit her, she started mashing in her fluffy grandma hair and scolding herself with, “Stupid! Why did you say that? She doesn’t have any children anymore!” I said, “That’s okay. There really isn’t any correct thing to say to a grieving parent besides maybe that you have a time machine,” I soothed. She smiled, touched my hand, and said, “Thank you.”

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