So basically, let me start with all my excuses: 

1.  the delivery guy was late which meant I would be late picking up my kid.

2.  He was delivering my kid’s desk—which was already 6 weeks late.

3.  I was going out-of-town the next day and had a SLEW of details to take care of.

4.  My husband threw his back out THEN gave himself frostbite by leaving an ice pack on too long & needed me to ‘find the aloe vera gel.’

5.  I had just lost 5 lbs. in one week due to a severe reaction to an antibiotic & only this morning was given a NEW antibiotic to counteract the first.

         So, when the delivery guy FINALLY pulls up what do I do?  Greet him at the door with iced, organic apple juice, of course.  But it gets better.  As the first guy hauls a box upstairs, the driver looks at my guitar propped in the stand and says,  “Hey.  Who plays that thang?”  “I do,” I reply.  “Wow.  I just got me an Ovation 12-string but I’m completely tone-deaf.  Don’t know how to tune it, but I know it’s off cuz when I go from C to F, it just sounds bad.”  “Gosh,” I smile politely.  “If you had it with you I’d be happy to tune it for you.”  “Really?” he says brightening.  “Why, I got it right in the back of the truck!!”

         Great.  Just what I need.  I’m standing at the door feeling like an idiot.  Why? Because 40 years ago, Granny said:  “Always do something when you’re asked, if you can.  You might not get another opportunity.”  Seconds later, he’s fairly beaming as he rushes towards me with his dilapidated case holding those 12 discordant strings inside.  Fortunately only one of them is really out.  I manage to finish the job just as they finish assembling the desk.  He leaves happy.  I leave late. . .but grateful, thanks to Granny.   Now every time I see that desk, I’ll remember the big smile on his face.  (Helen Hudson is the author of, “Kissing Tomatoes,” a memoir of the years before and after her grandmother’s descent into Alzheimer’s.



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