Especially on Monday
It wasn’t a horrible day. Believe me, I know all about
horrible days. I’ve HAD horrible days. And this wasn’t one
of them. Not by a long shot.
But it was a Monday, and that’s usually horrible enough.
To start things off, I got up late. Don’t you hate that
feeling? You’re still sort of out of it and you’re not
exactly sure where you’re supposed to be but you know you’re
not supposed to be in bed, so you throw back the covers and
start hustling until your mind clears enough to figure out
where you’re supposed to be -- only by then it’s too late.
I hate that. It’s an awful way to start the day. Especially
a Monday.
Then there were computer problems at work all morning long.
Too many pickles on the chicken sandwich at lunch. A
pushy-but-somehow-obnoxious constituent on the telephone in
the afternoon. Traffic jams on the freeway on the way home.
Nothing spectacular. Nothing life-altering. Nothing
out-and-out... you know... horrible. Just another ho-hum,
hum-drum, sorta dumb Monday.
Which is why I was tired by the time I got home that
evening. Tired and cranky. And maybe a little ornery. So
when I sat down to eat dinner with the family I was ready
with a shock-and-awe response to just about anything.
Except love.
I noticed the blue paper under my bowl as I was about to
take my first slurp of soup. My first thought was that one
of the kids had left some homework undone, or that an art
project mess had gone uncleaned. So I slipped the paper out
from under my bowl and unfolded it to see if I could
determine the guilty -- and soon to be executed -- party.
"Dear Joe," the typewritten note inside the folded blue
paper began, "you do such a great job of taking care of our
family."
Still being in my Monday mode, I wasn’t quite sure what to
make of it. Who was this "Joe" character, and what was he
doing taking care of my family? And who, I wanted to know,
was taking the time and trouble to thank him for it on my
beautiful blue computer paper?
"I know that we are constantly on your mind," the note
continued, "and I appreciate all the little things that you
do to help make our family happy and well."
Suddenly a warm feeling enveloped me. It started in my
chest, where my heart recognized the words of my wife,
Anita, and realized that she was writing them to me. And it
quickly spread to my face, where a goofy grin replaced the
furrowed grimace that had been plastered there when I walked
in the door.
"We know we can count on you," the note read. "Whether the
need is medication or Godiva ice cream, you are always so
willing to make a store run no matter what time it is."
My face felt red, and I was sure I was starting to blush so
I looked up to see if anyone else noticed. But 13-year-old
Elizabeth and 11-year-old Jon were both busy reading notes
of their own -- and smiling. As we finished reading, we all
folded our notes and tucked them carefully away. We didn’t
share their content. That wasn’t really necessary. But for
the rest of the evening the entire family shared the
wonderful feeling that comes when someone dear to you takes
the time to let you know that you are loved and appreciated.
Even on a Monday. ESPECIALLY on a Monday.
Joseph Walker
valuespeak@earthlink.net