X-Static Process

As I pulled into the parking space I was overcome with emotion.

It hit me unexpectedly.

In a breezy and excited mood, I had been on cloud 9 after an uneventful work day, an amazing spin class, and time in the late evening to go Christmas shopping for my husband and in-laws- it was as close to a perfect day as a woman could want.

But as I skirted easily into the open parking spot my heart clenched, and my eyes welled up in tears. 

Out of nowhere. 

My heart broke in that moment. 

I was my 21 year old self. 

I hadn’t spent time at this mall in nearly two decades.  Once my “home” mall, when I got older other venues opened up and I moved away, and just stopped coming here. 

But now living back in the area I grew up in I find myself transported to places and memories I hadn’t thought on for as many years. 

The spot was the same spot I had parked in almost 20 years ago. It was the one where I locked my keys in my gold Chevy Cavalier at age 21.  

Only months before my father passed away, he rescued me at that spot. 

He always rescued me. 

My keys were locked in the car (again), on a night so similar to this. 

I stood outside the car on the same temperate night, and my mother and father met me at this mall.

And because it was dark and late at night, my dad let me take my parents car to my next destination, while they waited for AAA to come and do that thing they had to do to my car 100 times before. They waited for someone to jimmy the lock while I carried on. 

(I’ve never been the best with my keys)

And my heart broke at the memory of it. 

It was as though I had to remember, again, that my father was no longer here.  

As though his passing was only hours ago. 

He wouldn’t come rescue me. 

I couldn’t buy him a gift, as I prepared to buy my other parents’ gifts. 

I dried the unwelcome, unexpected and completely  embarrassing tears, taking a deep breath.

My slightly swollen, pink eyes gave away my moment of heartbreak.

I gathered myself. 

I baby-wiped my cheeks (the usefulness of having a toddler), and sat quietly for another 10 minutes; 

staring at the mall before me that was staying open late for the last-minute holiday shoppers like me. 

Still sad, but resolute to let it pass, I opened my car door to breathe the sights and sounds of frenetic Christmas joy and consumerism. 

I closed it. 

Not quite ready.

I wrote. 

And here I sit staring at the mall before me.  

People passing with their packages. 

Me depuffing my face in the illuminated mirror with a cool baby wipe. 

Breathe again.

It’s time to shop for my parents. 

It’s time for Christmas joy. 🎄