A Calming Presence
Today I was out and about reading my book, drinking coffee, and then headed to a brewery for lunch. The bartender was making a massive mixture of watermelon margarita to turn into a slushy and we started talking.
I went through my couple of drinks and my food and got ready to check out, but I hadn't really spoken with the bartender other than her checking in with me as she walked by.
As I was getting up to leave she stopped me to say "I wanted to tell you that today has been a crazy day and you have been a calming presence for me. I needed someone with a chill vibe to keep me calm."
Beneath the surface I am not really "chill." Calm maybe but only because I have spent almost the last year completely alone and I have gotten really good a containing and compartmentalizing my depression.
I have already posted about not being in a relationship and dealing with that loneliness (there will be more). But two years ago I had to put down my first dog, Kira. I still had my second dog, Zeke, to take care of and we got so close it was crushing when he died late last summer.
Hearing that I was a calming presence for someone caught me off guard because the fact that I am out and about without my furry copilot has been hitting super hard this week.
There isn't much more of a point to this post, but I am still processing how that simple human interaction has impacted me today.