Lazeeza Chronicles

It was one of those days. The kind of day when everything looks much bleaker than it really is. When everything around you annoys. And you’re deeply in touch with your inner Grinch. When the Is-It-Fresh Brigade make u want to spit nails! You’re forgiven such days. That’s what they always say. No biggie. We all have them. Perhaps…

She walked in at a quiet time. The lunch rush gone. I remember her face from way back when she taught me. Grade One. Twenty seven years ago. Her body may have aged, but her face seems to have survived Time’s sometimes ruthless hand.

She places an order. Asks about my mum who was her colleague. We get to talking.

And then she tells me about her grandson. A four year old who bled to death after a routine tonsillectomy. I feel my blood run cold. In my mind I see my kids. My almost-four year old. The horror and dread fingers the fringes of my mind.

“You know about my son, don’t you? He died in an accident a few years ago.”

I offer my condolences. All the while trying to keep my shock, my horror under wraps. My words sound hollow and inadequate.

“And my husband… he lost his mind when our son died. He was coming right and now with my grandson... He’s back to square one.”

I feel like I’ve just been hit over the head by a celestial anvil!

Such pain. Such loss. I cannot even begin to understand it. Cannot fathom the true depth of their grief. Yet here she stands. A strong woman. Still teaching. Still smiling. Getting through life. Finding reasons to smile. Reasons to “be”.

I watch her leave and I am reminded of how huge a blessing each breath that enters my lungs is. Of how blessed I am to have a mind and body that are healthy. Of how lucky I am to have five healthy (though maddening at times) kids.

Yes, it does feel good to wallow at times. But she got me to ask: Why bother? Life’s too short. Carpe diem…