There are ups and downs in this walk to happiness.
Yesterday, after looking at a couple of houses to purchase, my youngest and I went to get a bite to eat. I saw a family coming into the restaurant that I really didn't want to talk to. We tried to be invisible but, alas, it didn't work.
They both came up and said their friendly hellos and awkwardly the man walked away. The wife stayed to make pleasantries. Both are intimately familiar with what happened to my Secret Keeper as not only do they live up the street from us but our two husbands worked together. She smiled and chatted and we exchanged all the normal inquiries and then she did it!
"I noticed your house is up for sale," with a large smile.
"Yes," I said, gritting my teeth as I pinned a smile on my face.
"I saw that Tina and Bob have both been there showing the house. Do you know them? They are friends of ours," she inquired, smiling even more broadly.
I mumbled something in reply, not having known the people she mentioned.
"We are all waiting anxiously to see how long it takes to sell," she says, showing even more teeth than I thought possible.
Thankfully, the conversation ended and she walked away and I was left with my thoughts. My growing resentment of how she monetized my loss. How fast and how much my dreams sell for, will give them a sense of value to their home purchase. The pictures of my Secret Keeper and I around the Christmas tree with our grown children and their spouses, chubby grandchildren running around on the tile we put in ourselves with the help of my sisters and their husbands are fading as she and her husband celebrate the increase of their equity that my grief cements for them.
I cry more tears, even though I assumed I had used my quota for the year. Yet I know that I am being self destructive. And I know that she is truly a nice person and would be appalled if she knew how much her words hurt yet, for the moment, I just ache.
One moment at a time. 9:00 will be a better hour. 8:06 will be a better minute.