Ms. Cynthia and the Passage of Time

Yesterday - because, of course, it was Monday and the first day back at work after vacation - Joe woke up with what looked like pink eye.  His left eye was red, swollen, and itchy.  I ran to an 8:30 a.m. meeting I couldn't miss, canceled two meetings afterwards, called the pediatrician, and picked up eye drops for Joe from the Kroger (8th Avenue) pharmacy. 

While waiting for Dr. Godfrey's nurse to call me back, I managed to squeeze in a cup of coffee at Steadfast Coffee in Germantown.  I haven't been there in ages but I was glad I was on that side of town and stopped in, because the coffee was really, really good.  Cool atmosphere, too.

At Kroger, I stopped by the deli and ran into Ms. Cynthia.  She's been working in the deli for as long as I've been going there, almost 20 years by my count.  I almost didn't recognize her.  She's much, much thinner and almost looked like she had been sick, which made me sad.  She's older and I am, too.   

With the Publix having opened a couple of years ago in the neighborhood and a smaller Kroger on 21st Avenue, I don't get by the 8th Avenue Kroger as much as I used to in the old days, which was several times a week.  Also, almost everyone of the older, longtime employees that worked at the Kroger - Eddie, Bama, Rose - are gone.  And, really, the store is kind of a mess compared to the Publix, which his still relatively new.

When the boys were young, toddling about, the 8th Avenue Kroger was the only game in town.  We were there all of the time or so it seemed.  I often took JP alone, then later, Joe, too, to Kroger.  We always stopped by the deli to see Ms. Cynthia and she gave the boys a cookie or a slice of ham if I was buying deli meat.  More importantly, she always smiled and talked to the boys and they always wanted to go see her and say hi when we were at Kroger.  

I have so many happy memories of grocery shopping in the 8th Avenue Kroger, rolling around with JP sitting in the front of the shopping cart.  I was a new father, full of optimism at the wonder of life, trying to figure it all out.  Grocery shopping w/JP and giving Jude a break seemed like such a fatherly thing to do.  JP and I used to play a game in the produce section, where I would drop a plastic bag from high in the air and he'd try to catch it before it hit the ground.  He would laugh and laugh I would, too.  

In a way, time seemed to stand still for us in those days, as we meandered through Kroger.  JP was endlessly fascinated and entertained by by everyone and everything at Kroger.  Other customers smiled at us, as I shopped for groceries and he chattered away.   

I remember an after dinner run to Kroger with one of the boys, although I can't recall which one.  JP or Joe "drove" one of the shopping carts with the car attached to the front.  When I got home and unloaded the groceries, I realized we had left "Gnash" - a favorite lovie (stuffed animal) - at Kroger.  I jumped in my truck and drove back to Kroger like a bat out of hell and frantically searched through the shopping carts to see if I could find Gnash.  No luck and my heart sank.  I checked the service desk and to my relief, a good Samaritan - one with children no doubt - had found Gnash and left him there, knowing a panicked parent would return looking for him.  Crisis averted.

Of course, time doesn't stand still, which is why I found myself yesterday, standing in a coat and tie, looking across the deli counter at Ms. Cynthia, smiling in delight when I recognized her.  

"How are the boys?" she asked.  

I pulled out my cell phone and showed her a recent picture taken last week in Florida.  

Stunned and almost speechless, Ms. Cynthia looked up at me, smiling.  "They're so big," she said.  "They're just so big."

I agreed, thanked her and told her how good it was to see her.  It really was good to see her.  

As I walked away, I was briefly overwhelmed by a wave of mixed emotions.  Nostalgia.  Happiness.  Pride.  A little sadness, too, at the passage of time and that Ms. Cynthia didn't look particularly well.

That's the constant, really, the passage of time.  It just goes by so damn fast, doesn't it?  

I miss those Kroger days with the boys.  I miss the innocence, the wonder, and the joy of the early days of fatherhood.  I miss Ms. Cynthia.