Bridges and Tacos

TW:suicide

“What does it matter, anyway?”

“Well…it matters to me. You matter to me.”

“That’s ridiculous. You don’t even know me.”

“You’re right, We don’t know each other. My name is Dee. What’s your name?”

“My name doesn’t matter. Now please, leave me alone.”

“I would normally do just that, but seeing as how I just happened upon you standing on the edge of this bridge all alone, I feel some kind of moral obligation to stop and talk to you tonight.”

“That’s ridiculous. I’m not your problem. I release you of any guilt you have in walking away.”

“I appreciate that. I’d also really appreciate hearing about whatever it is that brought out here tonight. I’ll tell you what brought me out here…tacos.”

“Tacos?”

“Not “tacos” directly, but indirectly, yes. Ya see, I was meant to make my grandson some tacos tonight, but I forgot to get the ingredients at the store this week. I was headed in to town when my car just clean quit on me. So now, here I am, finding myself walking up to this bridge to see you here, lookin’ to be in need of friend.”

“I’ve never really had friends. Or family, for that matter. I’m not really in the market for building new relationships at the moment. Thanks, though.”

“You know what, I hear ya. I’ve never really been too fond of people, truth be told. When you get lots of people together, you get disagreements. Arguments. Gossip. One-up-‘ems and egos. But I do think that, individually, most people are good.”

“Humph. I don’t know what would make you say that. People are the worst.”

“Buggy Carrols.”

“Huh?”

“That’s what makes me think that most people are generally good. Buggy Carrols. You know, the metal thing in the parking lot of the grocery store. Where people return their buggies, or shopping carts. There’s no rule that says they have to, but most people do it anyway. Because they’re decent humans.”

“That’s not an important thing, it’s just a stupid shopping cart.”

“Oh, I beg to differ. It’s the little things in life that matter. The small gestures here and there, they add up. Returning your buggy so someone else doesn’t have to run all over creation to gather them up. Smiling at a stranger. Cooking a meal for a sick friend. Being a listening ear when someone needs it. And you can’t forget a boy who wipes the toilet seat after he pees.”

“HA! Really? Wiping the toilet seat, huh?”

“Well, yes, Sir! I raised five boys, I outta know. I’m an old lady and I’m not nearly as nimble as I used to be. Getting into the bathroom is an ordeal all it’s own these days, let alone havin’ to bend over and clean a seat. 

“I don’t have a family. I was in the The System for the last 10 years. It’s been ten years since my mom just left me in the middle of the night. I took care of myself for awhile. Nobody noticed that I was living alone. Nobody cared, until I started to stink, and the other kids at school made fun of me. That’s when the counselor pulled me in and tried to call my mom. She didn’t answer the phone. I said she was probably just out, she’d be back soon. But that counselor, she didn’t buy it. But the end of that school day, I was on my way to Foster Care.”

“That must’ve been a lot for a little guy.”

“I was ten years old. Since then, I’ve bounced around from house to house. Town to town, really. And now that I’m eighteen, I’m back on my own again. Nobody wants the older kids, they all just want perfect little babies. And I was far from perfect.”

“Me too, honey. Me too. None of us on God’s Green Earth are perfect…no matter how much we want the rest of the world to think we are.”

“I’m just done trying to please everyone else. I’ll never be who they want me to be. And I’m tired of trying to be someone I’m not.”

“Well then…who are you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, who are you? What do you like to do? What do you believe in?”

“I don’t know. At this point, I just know who I’m not. Who I don’t want to be.”

“I’m no Life Coach, but I think you deserve to give yourself the chance to find out. Take all the opportunities that you can. Decide what you stand for. Who you want to be. Try. Fail, and try again. Life isn’t about being perfect, it’s just about being. About being who you’re meant to be…not who others want you to be.”

“I’m broken, though. I always will be.”

“Our history will always be there. It’s shaped us, made us who we are. But it doesn’t have our future in a choke hold, Son. You might get away from it, the places you’ve been, the things you’ve seen. But it never really leaves you, The Past. But the past is the past, and we can move on. Live for today, not yesterday.”

“You’re full of cliches tonight, aren’t you?”

“Well, gotta be full of something, and it’s surely not tacos tonight. Truly, I think you owe it to yourself to figure out who you are. The things you can learn, and do, the people you’ll meet - they’re all just waiting for you. As an older woman, I call tell you this: you regret most the things that you didn’t do. The things you never said to people. And I’d regret it if I didn’t tell you this: you do matter. You matter to me. And I just know, that if you step back down here, off of that ledge, you’re gonna matter to other people too. 

“Today is my birthday. My name is Luke.”

“Well, Happy Birthday, Luke. Care to join me for some birthday cake and tacos?”