Holding Space

Several days ago I was at a Tallahassee Walmart in search of a replacement charging cord for my iPhone. It seems my youngest cat had decided the existing cord was her personal chew toy and had rendered it a danger to both of us.

The young man who assisted me in the electronics department was the kind of guy one just instantly liked. He wore a genuine smile and seemed knowledgeable. Within a very few minutes he’d made a couple of suggestions and I was ready to check out.

As we finished my transaction an older man in a wheelchair rolled up behind me. My young salesman addressed the man saying, “Hey Super Dave! Where have you been? I’ve been worried about you!”

Super Dave grinned from ear to ear, “I was having some problems with my breathing, but I think we got it fixed up for now.”

I noted his oxygen tank and the hose clamped to his nose. He had the look of a grizzled veteran who’d perhaps fallen on hard times. The salesman came around the counter and shook Dave’s hand.

“Glad to hear that man. You’ve got to take care of yourself.”

Then he turned to me and said, “Super Dave is my man, don’t you know.”

Super Dave beamed. This young man had held space for him in his heart when maybe no one else did. I’ll be honest, I walked away with a tear in my eye.

Peace, people.

Author: nananoyz

I'm a semi-retired crazy person with one husband and two cats. View all posts by nananoyz