You know those articles you read where the writer has interviewed elderly, unwell folk in palliative care, and the general sentiment that they all express is: “I wish I’d spent more time with my family and friends, and less time stressing about work”?
Well, this tea bag reminds me of the need for us to sometimes take two steps back and contemplate the question: “What do I really want to be remembered for?”
It reminds me of a guy I used to work with when I was 19- in retail at a now defunct department store. He was in his late 50s and a pretty poor merchandiser, sales person and all-around retail unenthusiast. He didn’t exactly apply himself and spent a lot of the time just checking in with all of us: “How are you, young Margie?”
He was forever shuffling off at snail’s pace to retrieve some pre-ordered RM Williams boots: “I’ll be right back”, and would search high and low, near and far, under the trolleys and into the back shelves- only to be convincingly overtaken by Dorothy, a hyper-efficient 50-something retail gun, who’d find the very pair he needed in less than half a minute.
None of us really rated his work aptitude but we were all so fond of him because of the sweet and thoughtful way he talked to each of us and the customers- as if our news was the most important information he was receiving that day; as if he had all the time in the world to really sit there and absorb our teenage concerns– as if he knew that even if his vintage, outdated relationship advice wasn’t taken on board, it didn’t matter, because we always felt infinitely better after talking to him.
He was equal parts dignified and tranquil- and just like the tea bag says, his lovely energy and our daily interactions stay etched in my memory as deep and happy pockets of warmth and kindness.
