It hasn't been an easy week or two with what I've dealt with but the universe continues to give gifts, even when you're in the depths.
I have had trouble coping in recent days, and I needed some help in dealing with my overwrought emotions so I booked an appointment with a cherished therapist to give me some much-needed guidance, a little solace, and some coping strategies.
I got to the appointment early, despite the infamous Toronto traffic. I parked my car, and decided to take a brief walk in the very humid weather, to get a coffee, and kill the twenty minutes time I had on my hands. Heart heavy with my thoughts, I started toward the coffee shop, just a few minutes down the road on the Danforth.
I waited in line, my change purse out to order and pay for my coffee.
Out of nowhere, a guy, probably about thirty, waiting in line behind me, with a five-dollar-bill in his hand said to me, "Oh, I will buy your coffee." I stared at him, uncomprehendingly, my sunglassses on against the Toronto afternoon sun; my female armour on, after my recent betrayal.
"Why are you going to buy my coffee?", I said to him, kind of incredulous.
"Oh, I try and buy a coffee for someone every day, and I haven't done that yet today".
I will admit, here, on my blog, my source of such comfort: I dissolved into a web of tears.
I couldn't even speak. He didn't seem perturbed by this. He just let me cry. I found my voice.
"I just...I've had a difficult few days. I found out that my boyfriend, I mean, my ex-boyfriend, had an affair, and we were living together, and he moved in with her, and my dad has cancer, and I can't believe...you would offer...to buy...me a... coffee." I was in floods. I let him in on my world, my pain, the way sometimes you can only let in a stranger. We got to the order taker--he gestured to me to order my coffee, then he ordered his. He spoke.
"Well, listen--you have to think about things that you have to be grateful for, that's all you can do." I was struck by this. I've had a hard time feeling gratitude lately, I will admit.
I nodded. "It's true," I said, "I look around this city and see people on their bicycles, their entire lives fitting in a bicycle basket." I stuck my hand out; "I'm Carolyn". He shook my hand. "Dylan. Do you want to go somewhere and talk?" I deferred, "I'm on my way to a therapy appointment". We were handed our coffees, which he so gallantly, so gracefully, took care of.
We said good bye and wished each other well.
Angels on Earth.