Little Lessons

It's Sunday in Thousand Oaks. Not only is it Sunday, but it is the afternoon, which means church is out. I should know better, but off I go to Trader Joe's for wine and milk. After circling the parking lot impatiently, I settle for a spot far, far away and make my way past today's charity cup holder at the entrance. You know them...you give a few times, then start to wonder...do they just go home and crack the can open, laughing all the way? Do I sound cynical?
The lines are as long as the day before Thanksgiving. Seriously. I greet a few friends, grab my few items and settle in to the "express" lane.
Then a baby cries and the woman standing one lane over offers to hold her. The mom hands her over and the baby settles down. Wow. What IS this place? Then an older gentleman behind me offers to take my basket in his cart. I accept, mostly because I feel like he would feel good about himself. We get to talking and he tells me he was born and raised in LA. Traveled a bit during WWII (Navy) and I ask about kids. He had two sons who have both passed away, and he goes on to tell me his daughter was a raging alcoholic until two years ago. Now she helps others on the journey to sobriety (I move my wine under the chocolate chips). No grandkids. Tells me he turned 90 last week and he and his daughter are the only left in his entire family. Then he goes on to tell me he feels so fortunate. He says he has a great daughter who is such a strong person, and he can still walk to TJs to shop. After I check out I turn back to him to say goodbye and he gives me a hug and a peck on the cheek.
As I leave I toss a couple coins in the can and feel an ache in my heart. Sometimes life feels so poignant. We are so lucky.