My Cart Tipped
and I went down with it
Last winter, in the swirl of my dad being sick, I went to the small-town grocery store.
Before I get into how I fell, hard, in the parking lot, I’ll tell you why I like going there.
It’s small. Like the old IGA in the town where I grew up.
I like that for a few reasons. There aren’t 37 varieties of ketchup, which makes it a little easier. The clerk knows your name and will tell you some little sweet story while you’re checking out. The fluorescent lights don’t blind me the way they do at the big box stores.
And the music isn’t blasting.
So I go there, if I can get away with it.
It’s called the Blanchard Thriftway in Crystal, if you’re from around here. You can leave with a huge cartful of groceries for $91.07, which is hard to do anywhere else. It’s a good place and I’d recommend it.
But anyway…
I was blindingly tired last winter. My dad was on hospice and I was keeping the business and communities going, and you still have to go to the store to buy a gallon of milk kind-of-thing.
It was winter, but not icy.
And I was leaving in the dark as you do after work in the winter.
My cart hit the edge of a small slope. It must have caught it just right, and I fell.
As in: the cart tipped over and I went down on top of it.
Groceries few all over the parking lot.
I banged myself up pretty good.
It happened so fast I didn’t even really know how it happened.
I stood up and started picking up my bread and milk and head of lettuce, one by one.
Some of it had traveled what seemed like an impressive distance.
*
I was thinking about this today, because I was there, and I looked at the spot where I fell. It doesn’t seem dramatic.
Last winter, I was holding on by a darn thread, and then WHAMO.
And all I could do was pick them up one by one, wondering if anyone saw.
Love,
Rhonda
P.S. Have you ever gone down in a parking lot?
Oh yes. I was 8 months pregnant, leaving work. Wearing sandals with double straps, walking on a gravel parking lot. Someone called my name, I turned to see who it was, and down I went. In the hospital parking lot. Suddenly surrounded by zillions of co-workers and being wheeled to the ER. I was fine and so were you! Never wore those shoes again, and not too fond of sandals anymore.
MY brother Dick worked there probably 60 years ago. It was called Wendy's IGA. I think his last name was Blanchard. I spent countless hours in Crystal because they had the Palladium, an acre dance floor with live bands back when teenagers danced all night. There was a drive in called Lonnie's. Oh, the stories you will hear if you ask around! Such memories. And of course, I've fallen more times than I can count! Most recently in a TG Max store. Spent hours in PT and wore a sling for four months!