The task was to make scalloped potatoes. I had been putting off even going into the kitchen knowing that there was a big bag of spuds waiting for me. So, I distracted myself by browsing through my emails. Then, just as I turned to finally get started at the peeling and slicing that awaited me, my computer phone rang. We seldom, if ever, get calls through the computer so I glanced to see who was calling.
The call was from a man with Down Syndrome who I had met years ago in Wales. He and a couple of other folks with disabilities had come to a training that I was doing. We all hit it off and ended up with our host (Hi Jayne) and my caller and two friends in a pub having lunch. We were loud and a bit raucous but then again so was the pub, we expanded to fit the space we were in. Joe and I remember this particular lunch fondly and talk about it often.
So Stephen all these years later decided it was time to give us a call. I can't tell you how nice it was to hear his voice and, once again, laugh together. He's a lovely and funny guy. But more than that, he's a thoughtful man. We talked about the pandemic and compared our lockdown in Ontario with his freedom in Wales.We all agreed that it had been too long since we last talked.
When I hung up I felt ... happier.
That wee bit of connection, that evidence of caring, that moment where it felt like we fell into warm memories, was lovely. It was a gift, unexpected. But it was a gift, so welcomed. I need to remind myself that sometimes it just takes a moment to show someone that you care and think about them, it doesn't take much. If in dark times we can bring light, then bring light.
In the kitchen, right after his call, I chopped all these potatoes, and onions, thinking, not about the task, but about our time in Wales and about Stephen and his friends and about the amazing place we stayed at there. That one call turned around my day and took me in a different, and better, way.