If you know me, you know that I’m not a people person. Heavy throw blankets, wool socks, a sleeping Auggie, a warm cookie, and a marathon of Hallmark movies gives me a rush, whereas a room full of people is draining. I expect the worst out of others, and I’m typically spot on. I’m soft-spoken and reserved, but if I need to, I can use those same soft-spoken words to cut right through you. And lastly, I will purposefully go out of my way to avoid you, no matter how much I may like you.
So, when Bryson and I were anticipating the 34 oz steak, mac and cheese, and roasted corn bound to arrive at our table in just a few minutes, I was more than displeased when a middle-aged couple was placed less than two feet away from us. There was more than half of the entire restaurant left empty, and yet, the hostess thought that two feet away from Bryson and I, who were celebrating our 3rd anniversary, was the best location for this couple.
I immediately thought the worst when I got a small whiff of smoke as the woman sat down on her side of the table; the same side as mine. If you know me, you’ll know I’m very sensitive to smells and lighting. The wrong combination and I’m out for two days with a migraine. (Hindsight here says this was likely not the woman who smelt like smoke. It probably came from the restaurant’s open kitchen.)
I looked at Bryson for a few short moments hoping he would see my disapproval and somehow know that I needed his help to scoot our table for two a few inches away. Two and half feet distance from the other couple was all I was looking for.
He didn’t. So, I not so gracefully moved it myself. I’m not sure if the couple noticed. I’m guessing they didn’t because it wasn’t long before our conversations merged.
It started with conversations around our food that had now arrived, which lead to conversations around the best place to get a steak. We discussed steaks from Denver, to their home in western Kansas, to the best steak the gentleman had ever had in a casino in Las Vegas. Discussions of Denver led to confessions of sport team allegiances. It progressed into talking about Auggie and their four children. We talked about grandparents and how much they love their grandchildren. And lastly, they confided in us the reason they were 7 hours away from home eating at the Golden Ox on a Thursday: Liver cancer.
My heart sunk.
In one short dinner, I had assumed the worst, let my desire for solitude cloud my ability to think of others, and almost missed out on the opportunity to meet an amazing couple from well, BFE.
I wondered to myself how many times I have let this happen and not have even known. How many individuals have I encountered where I assumed they were a wealthy, chain smoking older couple that would have nothing worthwhile to share? How often have I tried to distance myself from someone whose life I could have made a difference in? Or, maybe they could have made a difference in mine?
I’m fortunate, because while I am all these things, my husband is not.
He is kind, caring, and extroverted. He enjoys social outings and will go out of his way just to speak to you. His voice easily radiates through a room but never through you. When he speaks, he is sure to have considered you in all aspects. And lastly, he only sees good intentions and somehow continues to even after you have shattered his heart.
Before we left the restaurant that evening, Bryson asked if it would be okay if he prayed for the man and his procedure the next morning. Most of the time, I think Bryson’s a little silly with all his religious propaganda, but this time I was proud to be his wife.
The man and his wife were taken back but not negatively. I saw their eyes glass over a bit as they prepared to accept Bryson’s prayer over their lives, and mine started to become slightly hazy as well. Hazy with grief for the man, his wife, four children, 11 grandchildren, and the home they had created together, humbled by the man I had married, and thankful for an evening well spent.
God has a way of placing us where we need to be at the right time. That’s evident by the couple sitting at the table next to us last night and when I think back to that evening over eight years ago when I met my future husband.
Thank you, Bryson, for balancing me out.
Leave a Reply