Ten-Finger Exercises

special people

I'm sad this morning. I, who gets my fill of funerals in my daily job, missed one yesterday that I would like to have attended. I didn't even know she had died for sure until I fished the Monday newspaper out of the trash to check the obituaries.

One of the hospice social workers told me yesterday she'd been asked to call Linda's employer to offer grief counseling for the employees. She remembered the woman's name as Secora, but described her as the singing cashier, and I knew immediately that she must mean Linda.

I only knew Linda because I shop at the Grocery Outlet. I haven't really even heard her sing much, but I know she was hoping to win a big screen TV in a karaoke contest last summer. She said she thought she could out-sing the competition, but the judges evidently picked another person.

Funny how someone I knew so little stands out so much in my mind. Linda was glamorous, in a sexy, natural way-- sweet, friendly, outgoing and caring. This is an outrageous comparison, but, she was sort of like a Mexican Dolly Parton without surgical enhancements. She was bouncy, and her eyes twinkled.

She held people's babies while they hunted in their purse for their wallet or wrote out their checks. She sang to them. She asked about people's parents and jobs. She sympathized with customers who were worn out and disagreeable, laughed with teenagers who talked about makeup and boys. She double bagged anything heavy so the bag wouldn't break and scatter its contents all over your driveway. She was invariably cheerful and helpful.

Linda didn't do anything very difficult, but she made a difference in so many people's days just by being the person she was. She was only 52 and was killed in a car accident. God bless her and her family. The community will miss her.