(NOTE: This is an old draft from mid December. I was clearing out my drafts folder, and decided to post it. I haven't quite finished it, but if I don't upload it now I probably never will.)
I had waited until the last possible day to get my UT plates changed. I got my number and sat down; only 5 people before me, and an open seat. Yays! I looked down at the death certificate, and covered it with another paper. No one needed to know or feel bad.
As I looked looked through my purse for my chap stick, I heard the cutest Irish accent just a few feet away. I looked over at a sweet older Irish lady talking to a younger girl. She was briefly explaining where she was from, and asked the young girl about herself.
The younger girl was 21 and in college. She like really wanted to travel to Ireland someday, and like totally backpack through Europe too. She had been to Spain with friends, and it was awesome. The older lady smiled and nodded as this young girl went onto explain how she to wait until her birthday to get the "over 21" license and a new photo taken. She was like 16 in the old one, and had braces and un-blown-out hair. Awful!
As I listened to her talk, I missed the 21-year-old me. I remembered when I was like her; when I had time to get all dolled up for a DMV photo shoot... Ben married me weeks before I turned 21... Such a sweet time in my life.
Anyway, before long her number was called and she was gone. Minutes after that, the older Irish lady, got up and happily greeted someone she already knew. I thought to myself, "How fun is that? I never run into people I know here!"
As they embraced they both started crying. [By that point the guy next to me was making small talk. It made eavesdropping tricky.] In hushed tones the concerned friend asked how she had been, and apologized for not visiting with her more. That cute Irish lady's husband had recently passed away. She went on to talk about how difficult it had been on her, how much she missed him....and I had to stop listening.
My heart broke for her. For a moment I found it odd that at 27, I probably had more in common with a 60-something, than that 21-year-old girl getting the new license. And then I felt humbled realizing that each of us in that small overcrowded room had likely experienced our own brand of heartache.
I only hope that mine makes me better than I was before.
I had waited until the last possible day to get my UT plates changed. I got my number and sat down; only 5 people before me, and an open seat. Yays! I looked down at the death certificate, and covered it with another paper. No one needed to know or feel bad.
As I looked looked through my purse for my chap stick, I heard the cutest Irish accent just a few feet away. I looked over at a sweet older Irish lady talking to a younger girl. She was briefly explaining where she was from, and asked the young girl about herself.
The younger girl was 21 and in college. She like really wanted to travel to Ireland someday, and like totally backpack through Europe too. She had been to Spain with friends, and it was awesome. The older lady smiled and nodded as this young girl went onto explain how she to wait until her birthday to get the "over 21" license and a new photo taken. She was like 16 in the old one, and had braces and un-blown-out hair. Awful!
As I listened to her talk, I missed the 21-year-old me. I remembered when I was like her; when I had time to get all dolled up for a DMV photo shoot... Ben married me weeks before I turned 21... Such a sweet time in my life.
Anyway, before long her number was called and she was gone. Minutes after that, the older Irish lady, got up and happily greeted someone she already knew. I thought to myself, "How fun is that? I never run into people I know here!"
As they embraced they both started crying. [By that point the guy next to me was making small talk. It made eavesdropping tricky.] In hushed tones the concerned friend asked how she had been, and apologized for not visiting with her more. That cute Irish lady's husband had recently passed away. She went on to talk about how difficult it had been on her, how much she missed him....and I had to stop listening.
My heart broke for her. For a moment I found it odd that at 27, I probably had more in common with a 60-something, than that 21-year-old girl getting the new license. And then I felt humbled realizing that each of us in that small overcrowded room had likely experienced our own brand of heartache.
I only hope that mine makes me better than I was before.
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