Sometimes I Forget

Today I ran out to pick up Chinese food for lunch.  A rarity around our house.  I was completely alone.  Another rarity.   I sat down at a table to wait on the food to be ready and noticed a woman sit down with her plate of food.   Actually, I noticed her shoes first as I had had my eyes downcast staring into nothing.  I noticed that they were houseshoes and I giggled.   And as is totally typical, this led to a whole train of thoughts lasting about a minute or less before they called me up for my order that started with, "Hmm.  What would it feel like to have zero inhibition to walk out of the house and go out to eat at a restaurant with houseshoes on?" and ended with a sobering reminder.  She was sitting just diagonally up to my right facing away, and as my eyes drifted from her shoes I noticed that she was alone.  She wore worn and faded shirt and shorts that, in all likelihood, served as her "Saturday clothes".  I noticed she wore no ring on her not-pampered hands.  Tanned hands that bore the signs of wearying hard work, and not the tan of a tanning bed.  My humor at her fuzzy houseshoes fading, I took in her posture, head down, shoulders slumped.  Shoulders that looked like they carried the world alone.  She looked, in a word, tired.  Not the tired worn on the face of someone who just put in a long day at work, but the tired worn on the face of someone who is tired to the core.  You can see it in their eyes, and though I could not see hers, her body told me what I would more than likely see if I could.  There was a stiffness about the way she held herself that said, "I don't want your help or your pity."  The kind that oozes from a person that has fought one to many fights with their back to the wall and done it alone.  Aloneness.  That is what emanated from her.  It's difficult to put into words the emotion that gripped me as I sat there those literal few seconds.  Mostly because it was a whole plethera of emotions.  From empathy came the swell of emptiness, sadness, aloneness, the desire to ease the burden somehow, some way, and many more and then I hit an empathetic brick wall as I came to the startling recognition that I couldn't think of a time in my life that I have ever truly been alone.  I could not put myself in her shoes because I have never walked that barren mile. I'm not talking about physically being alone.  I'm talking about even when I am alone, even when I have waded through a hard spot in life that I had to go through alone, I have always lived knowing that I am not.  I have always carried the knowledge with me that there are people out there that care about me.  That love me.  And each of them are a blessing from the one who is always only a prayer away. The thought actually caused me to suck in my breath. The ache of sadness for her and gratitude for the strength that comes from knowing, if that makes any sense, both deepened.  I realized that that minute or less was a reminder.  A reminder not to forget those who do feel completely alone.  The ones who fight their battles with their backs against the wall and more often than not do it alone.  I was ashamed that wrapped up in my world I forgot that for a minute.  I am even more ashamed that I didn't go up to the counter and anonymously pay for her meal for no other reason than to lift her burden even a little, or just simply reach out to her.  The thought didn't register until I was already driving down the road.  Much to my chagrin I realized that I didn't learn my lesson very well.  I drove home with a somber reminder and greater resolve to pay more attention, think a little sooner, and act a whole lot faster.  I drove home with a prayer in my heart of thanks.  For the reminder, and for the blessing of simply knowing that I am never alone.