I am a white mom of three shopping for throw away road trip toys at our local Dollar Store.
Or is it Dollar Tree? Dollar General? I get them confused… But it is the one where everything is actually a dollar.
My kids excitedly dart between aisles and our eyes meet a couple times. You had opened the door for us when we all walked in together. I wonder if you remember that? I give you a sideways smile as my kids rush passed you veering from the party supply aisle into the toy aisle. I think I see you slide to the side to avoid collision, and I hope my smile diffuses the situation a bit. You seem aware of us. Or maybe I am just aware of you and aware of my inner knowing telling me not to look like I am acutely aware of you. After all, I am a good person who doesn’t notice things like that…
We meet again at the checkout. Just as I pull my cart behind you I see the exact toothpaste our kids use. I make the quick decision to leave my kids, my purse and our cart in line and dart the ten steps to grab a box for our upcoming vacation. But just as I pull the toothpaste off the shelf a familiar voice greets me and I linger chatting with her for a few moments. My kids find me in the aisle and come to be closer to me. When I sense that my time has likely come in the checkout line I dart back to my cart. You are still there. Your facial expression is hard to read and I won’t pretend to know exactly what you are thinking, but your words tell me more. With a confused somewhat exacerbated tone, you ask me,
Where did you go? Why did you run off and leave your purse right here? Anyone could have taken it and I would have been the last person you remember seeing.
I feel my body quickly respond in my usual way, to verbally deflate and deflect all hard situations. I turn my face into a joking smile and even playfully swat your shoulder. With a sing song voice I say “No, no I would never think that”.
But it wasn’t that simple for you, and you didn’t let it go.
You are really too trusting and you left your purse here for anyone to take. So I had to watch it for you.
My brain responded to your words but not your emotion. Again I deflated your concern by telling a quick anecdote about how my husband always tells me I am too trusting in leaving my purse everywhere.
By this time my kids are asking questions and wondering what we are talking about. Kids do that. They are watching and taking it all in even when we don’t think they are. I ease my children’s concerns by telling them that “this nice man had to watch Mommy’s purse because I made a bad decision to leave it here alone”.
Have you ever skirted an apology by talking about being sorry to someone else who is in ear shot of the hurt party? You don’t ever actually have the courage to apologize to the person themselves, but you still acknowledge that you were wrong and hope that is all you need to do.
It feels cheap and leaves a residue of incomplete resolution.
You were so kind. You let the story end there and I hate that you had to swallow your frustration for my sake. Or maybe for the sake of not making a scene? For the sake of knowing that I could never understand how it made you feel to be put in that situation? You had to protect yourself and you knew I didn’t understand any of that. What a privileged fool I am.
We made small talk for the remainder of our 45 seconds together. We discussed a hand sanitizer purchase and our family’s upcoming vacation. You gave me a recommendation for a store you like to stop at when you travel that same way. I could feel you relaxing, but the air was thick with my need to have you see me as good. Being a good person would absolve me from all of this. If you saw that I was good, then my lack of ownership and apology for putting you in that position would be overlooked. I wanted the easy way out because the easy way out is almost always offered to me. In fact, you even offered it to me and I see the extreme injustice in that now. I am sorry I made you feel like I was the one who needed to be seen as good. I am sorry I didn’t see you and the divide that you had to navigate because of a decision I made in a world that gives me a million second chances and you none. I am sorry.
I wish I had asked your name and said Thank you. My kids are watching, learning…and I wish they saw me do that.