In the checkout at Walmart

If you were in the checkout line at Walmart and either the person in front or behind asked you what you were getting or how old you were simply out of curiosity you'd probably think they were strange at best or rude perhaps. I certainly would especially considering the things that have been in my cart over the years, like pregnancy tests, laxatives, and other unmentionables. But this morning, Spencer did just that to the gentleman behind us in line. And the gentleman seemed to enjoy the line of questioning if that's possible. It turns out he was getting food and is 59 years old. he then turned the question on the boys. Nathan said he was 4 and Spencer said he was 100. (Thankfully age is still something to aspire to in my son's mind - perhaps indicative of wisdom as it should be instead of something to avoid and run away from) The gentleman and I then entered into a pleasant conversation about surprise surprise England and the fact that he served in the Air Force himself and was familiar with RAF Lakenheath and Mildenhall.

If Spencer hadn't asked the impertinent questions, he and I would probably have stood in line looking suspiciously at each other until we had finished with our transactions and retreated back to our homes. It wasn't anything spectacular but I felt the joy of human contact. He seemed delighted that I said I loved Colorado and there was that connection that we often miss in the business of our lives.

My children seem to have that ability or gift of being able to reach out to people. My Dad had it. And there was something else that drew people to him anyway. When we were living in Ohio and my parents came to visit us for the first time, he worked his magic and by the end of the visit which could only have been a few weeks, I had several people at church asking me to persuade my parents to move into the area. In fact, the whole time we lived there I was constantly being asked if my parents were bringing their church records with them on the next visit and staying for good. And then at the end of church during their visits, we were always waiting on Dad who would be sitting in some corner with a couple of guys he'd met that day in earnest conversation. My Dad's Dad was in many ways the same. He would come to visit us when I was a kid and say hello, how are you to every person he passed in the street. He passed away about 15 years ago now so the memories are fading but those kinds of things you don't forget.

Do we know our neighbors I wonder? We've said hello to the ones on our left but relations haven't been excellent by any means. The ones to our right are great people and I feel we are on the way to calling them friends. But our children know all our neighbor's children and call them friends. I am grateful for my children who aren't afraid to reach out and make a connection. They help me to remember what's great about being part of humanity. They remind me that swine flu is not a good enough reason to stay inside all day and make my connections through facebook. We need to talk to people and love them.

And since Dad died I have felt a great big silence. I've often wondered what he's doing or if he's even aware of me still. But I honestly felt something today. Do we get prompted through a nosy almost 6 year old and a 59 year old stranger buying a candy bar? I'd like to think so.