Coincidence or Grace

I often ask, ok, beg, Dena and others passed to send me help, strength or a sign that the world is good and cool and that I’m doing the right thing in it. Lately things have been off kilter. Yesterday was a particularly out of sorts day – boy trouble (don’t ask any questions people), then I called home for Nana’s birthday anxious to talk to everyone and learned Nana could barely hear me and I had a total of less than 5 minutes on my calling card. Next I heard Eric’s voice, “Hi Sissa” and immediately the tears rolled. I dried up and off to work I went working to accept that I did this to myself, but happy with myself that I know how to pull it together and be tough in tough times. Sometimes I’m not even sure why I’m here, but I also don’t know why I shouldn’t be here either. Not the point of the story however…

The point of the story is that I was muddling through the last few days being overly analytical and contemplative. That’s OK, something I didn’t allow myself time to do at home. So, being in a mood, having had only a few hours of sleep (I went out for the first time in a while on Sat. night) and not having had a day off since New Years there was a slight sour puss on my face. But, my first table washed it away.

Two guys from New York, here to chill, smoking stogies and making fun of me and everything Boston in their Staten Island accents. We shared stories and laughs. They were a delight next to the table of 8, nitpicky, middle-aged women who weren’t satisfied with anything. One says,”Can you turn the music down?” My answer, “Ah no, the live band you came to see cannot be turned down.” Bird brain.

OK, back to the good guys…like happens every single night, every table almost, they wanted to know how I got here, what life is like and how I make it work. I’ve heard so many positive responses that always reassure me that I’m not a bird brain myself. Things like “I honor your courage; your parents probably aren’t happy, but they should be proud; you were the smart one to leave corporate America; I envy you; you’re so brave; more people should be strong enough to live their life they way they want to; good for you for not following everyone else” and so on.

The accolades are comfort and encouragement enough, but often people like to leave me an extra tip too, the kind just for me, not the kind that goes in the bucket to share with the team. It’s happened, but I always put it in the bucket. People work hard here and they have all helped the gringa stay afloat as she tries to provide good service in Spanish. But, for some reason, after making such a nice connection with Big John, having a bad and sad day and being worried about how to pay my health insurance, I decided “OK, I will accept your tip, for me, cause I do deserve it.” Plus, he insisted. I couldn’t let the guy down.

He paid the bill and left us a $10 tip. Nice I thought, plenty tip enough considering no one usually leaves anything. Two bucks apiece would make the pot at the end of the night a lot sweeter. So, I expected another $10, maybe $20, like the others I’d received before, when he brought me outside after finishing his Remy.

He said, “This is for you and only you, and I want you to know that if I had a daughter I would want her to be like you”, and slid it in my hand, I slid it into my apron and tried not to cry as thoughts so quickly rushed through my head – the ultimate compliment to my parents, Kathy, the kind of daughter Dena was and will I get one like her some day…

Feeling mischievous for knowing I wasn’t going to put it in the bucket I went to the bathroom to shift it from apron to pants pocket for security. To my surprise he did give me $10…plus an extra zero. I stuffed the tears, happy ones, back in and went back outside to thank him again.

We talked some more and it was revealed that he was a skin doctor. Hm, coincidence? Or, grace at work? It was at that point I told him the rest of the story, the part about the biggest probable catalyst for my being here, changing my life and for being who I am. Melanoma is very much a part of both of our lives. I felt so glad to meet an earthly angel that tries to help people with this awful disease. And, I felt happy with life again and reassured that good days always follow bad days.