In the last few years, my definition of “family” has changed drastically. Lately, in addition to Nathan and Iz (and the cats, and okay, okay, Steve, even Monty!) I find that my day-to-day family has increasingly become more about my friends. My friends are "da bomb" in my nuclear family.
But, then there are the surprising moments that yield so much. You all know I have these moments. Anyway, in a moment, it sometimes seems that you see something you wouldn’t have otherwise or the moment makes your life flash before you enabling you to see a light but so not in that “Ghost Whisperer” kind of way.
Since it was raining yesterday, I knew that my bike was not an option. Okay, my bike could have been an option if I liked to bike on cold rainy days. I wasn’t an extreme biker, even though at work, I was thought of as an extreme runner.
When Amrit and I left the building today, at least five people said to us, “Oh, you’re going out running?!?!” I corrected the first two people and said, “Oh, no. We’re going to the gym.” After the third person said, “Oh, wow, You’re not going out in that,” I just grinned and let them think Amrit and I were extreme runners or at the very least two very wild and crazy chicks.
Anyway, I drove all the way to my gym, waved my keycard over the pad, and after the beep, a woman immediately opened the door. She pointed to the sign in the window and said, “Oh, we’re on a 48-hour maintenance shutdown.” Who knew that the gym needed a break from us when all the while we constantly wished ourselves a 48-hour break from it? She said, "The gym in Groton is open."
I said, "Shit!" I wondered if it was really worth it to drive to the next town, but after two minutes of thought, I knew I needed to expend some energy. So, I got in the car and drove over to Groton.
When I walked into the gym, I surveyed the new venue; there was only one very elderly gentleman walking on the treadmill. I removed my flip-flops, put on my sneakers, and I headed to another treadmill. I cranked the miles per hour up to 6.5, and I began my 30 minutes of running.
After I heard Daniel Bedingfield's Gotta Get Thru This, my ran ended. There was sweat everywhere, and who knew that I sweated so much. But, I did, and with paper towels and something that spritzed out of a bottle filled with yellow liquid, it was as if I had never run on that treadmill within two minutes; I still had a potential career in crime scene cleaning!
I walked back to get my flip-flops by the door. When I did, there sat the very elderly gentleman who had previously been on a treadmill. I picked up my flip-flops, went to the drink vending machine, and he asked, "What are you going to get?"
I had forgotten my water bottle. I brought a dollar in to buy a bottle of water. I answered, "I'm going to get water, the best choice here." I thought he was actually trying to bust me for buying some protein drink, so it would seem my answer was the "right" answer.
He then said, "What's wrong with that?" I asked, "What?" He pointed to the water fountain. I answered, "Nothing. But, I want to drink something all the way home."
I knew then that this wasn't about nutrition. It was about economics. He wondered why I would spend a dollar on a bottle of water when I could drink for free from the water fountain.
As he sat there, changing into his plastic sandals from his sneakers, I felt a bit guilty. The guilt went by the wayside in under a minute. Sometimes we need to do what we have to do, because it's what we have to do!
He reminded me of my paternal grandfather, who would have made me feel guilty for spending a dollar on a water when I could have drank for free endlessly from the bubbler. I remember when my grandfather visited, my Dad would always take him out for a nice dinner. My Dad would say, “Dad, order whatever you want!”
Given that the nuns told my Dad he was stupid and would never amount to anything and that my grandfather didn’t support my Dad when he was in college, I think this was my Dad’s way of saying, “Hey, I’m successful, and I want you to enjoy my success.” Unfortunately, no matter what, my grandfather always ordered “the scrod.”
I didn’t know if my grandfather preferred fish over a juicy prime rib, or if it was his way of saying to my Dad, “I see you are successful and you did it all without me, so I will not order the prime rib.” Was it pride, guilt, or some father-son-guy thing that I didn’t get at all because I was living on Venus when this all occurred on Mars? All I know is that I’ll never really know.
Meanwhile my water bottle ker-plunked down to the bottom of the vending machine. I reached in and grabbed it. While the elderly gentleman sat there, I twisted off the plastic top and as I did, my guilt dissipated.
My grandfather’s frugality definitely made him miss some things in life. Most importantly, I think they made him miss telling his son how proud he was of him. As I drove home, I chose to remember the greasy and delicious muffins my grandfather used to bring when he came to visit, the small but very helpful check he sent me each year I was at Brandeis, and the dill he grew in his backyard which he used for his pickles.
To this day, I cannot smell dill without thinking of my grandfather; sometimes when I'm in the kitchen, I snort a whiff just to remember my grandfather's backyard in Webster, MA. And years later, I have learned that it’s always better to remember the positive and not the negative. But, if truth be told, it’s always a daily struggle especially when it's all in your own family. ♥
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