Great minds can't prove it

I had this wonderful blog post written up in my head for tonight. I planned it while vacuuming after work. And now it has vanished and no one will never know the insightful and genius thoughts I was having (funny side note--I couldn't spell genius just now). Alas. How will the world continue (or the 2 people who read this, haha)

I suppose I'll just tell you my workventures for the day.

This man came in and seemed to be in a hurry--not just seemed--he told me he was in a hurry. We started talking about the artwork we sell at Deseret Book, however, and he talked to me for like 45 minutes as I showed him different pieces of artwork. He's lived a long life, and it was interesting to hear his views on that. He shared with me a story about his quest for a picture that represents a voice he heard in a dream. He was one of those customers that you feel bad leaving, but I was enjoying it.

While vacuuming, I saw a guy parked right outside the store eating Taco Bell. It was kind of freaky because the whole wall is a window...awkward.

I remembered my insightful story! Now that I talked it up so much, though, it's not going to seem nearly as cool.

Gone Too Soon
A couple came in today looking for a picture for a young woman whose mother died last night in an accident. I asked if it was the one that happened right by our store (yesterday there was a huge accident involving 3 fire trucks and life flight). It was in Wyoming, but it brought that accident to life for me. How would you feel to receive a call telling you your mother was dead. It's so final--so cruel. I know I would see her again, I have no doubt of that, but I would be in a state of absolute shock. How do you deal with that?

It was heartbreaking helping this couple. The girl is 16, so I showed them a very tender picture of Christ, which they bought. I also showed them the Willow Tree statues. Many older women don't like those, but young women love them. There is one called "Chrysalis" of a woman holding another woman. She purchased that as well. I felt bad, but that was about the extent of it.

The husband asked if they should get something for one of the sons of this lady who died. He held up a statue of a mother with a son. I looked over at him and it broke my heart as I watched his eyes well up. Throughout the transaction, the wife began crying a few times as well. The family has 5 children--and now they have no mother.

Just this morning, I found out that the mother of one of my professors passed away. She's been ailing for awhile, so it wasn't unexpected. When announced, everyone in the class went "awww" (our class is all girls except for one). As a student came in late, she was informed and her brow creased as she said "Oh, that's terrible." An inquiring colleague came in later and when she was told she said, "That's awful. I'll have to give her a call." I never respond like that because it feels so fake to me. In fact, responding to someone's admission of a tragedy often makes me feel uncomfortable. After this experience, I think I will react differently. I will at least feel more sorrow as I come closer to understanding what it would be like to lose a family member. I still am not sure what I will say, but my sympathy level will be much more sincere.