After an appointment downtown, Gerry and I head to Superstore to pick up some last minute Christmasthings. Ordinarily,mi wouldn’t go to the grocery store on the Friday before Christmas (because crowds), but this is no ordinary year as we continue settling into our new home. As we’re driving into the parking lot, wespot our daughter driving out of it. She phones and warns me that it’s crazy in there, just as I suspected.
I’ve got a list and I stick to it—mostly. We’re still getting oriented to this store and it takes longer than itwould otherwise. The aisles are crowded but everyone is smiling and making the best of it. I’m easilyoverwhelmed in situations like this, but make extra effort to remain calm and offer sincere smiles andgreetings as we go.
Gerry unloads the groceries when we’re finally at the checkout, and I chat with a friendly woman in front ofme about how once we’re moms we’re always moms and we don’t stop being concerned about our grownchildren. She’s quite delightful, and what could be a pressure cooker of an experience turns out to beanything but. She turns and waves as she follows her husband out of the store. “Merry Christmas!”
The woman running the till is equally delightful, telling me that she was up until 4am wrapping gifts becauseshe’s heading to Regina to celebrate Christmas Eve with her son’s family after work. She fills me in on therest of her plans for the holiday while scanning our groceries.
I end up leaving the store feeling lighter than when I entered, and grateful for the gift of festive folk on thislast Friday before Christmas. We stop at our new favourite Maple Leaf Bakery on the way home for a fewsweet treats and, predictability, it’s packed too. But it’s okay. Buoyed by the Superstore experience, andanticipating enjoying a Nanaimo Bar when we get home, the wait is a pleasant one.
Maybe I’ll have to rethink my “no shopping on the day before Christmas Eve” rule. Probably not, but this dayshowed me it can be fun after all.
Merry Christmas Eve, friends.