Goddess: a woman who after six or so decades arrives clear of bitterness and weathered in the best possible way. She offers no justification or qualification. She answers without deliberation or consultation and is comfortable and secure in who she is.
I find hope in her story. I see strength in her battles and admire the depth of her compassion.
On occasion I catch a glimpse of the Goddess I’m becoming and find reassurance I’m moving in the right direction.
Glimpsing Goddess #1
Recently I endured the cha cha of modern banking. One fish is munched by a bigger fish who gets gobbled by a bigger fish... and so on and so on.
Between errands and a forecasted blizzard I hurry into a grocery store branch. Two birds, I decide applauding my efficiency.
“I’d like to open a personal checking account.”
The associate asks, “What type of account?”
“Personal checking,” I repeat slowly. “My husband and I already have an established savings account with your institution.”
“Wonderful,” she rattles the keyboard. “Oh,” she catches her bottom lip with her teeth. “Your husband is primary on your account.”
“He’s listed first,” her nose wrinkles. “He’ll need to be here to establish your checking.”
Him to establish mine... (Deep breath) The archaic significance of whose name is listed first.
“You’ll need your own account.”
“Yes, that’s why I’m here.”
“What kind of account would you like?”
“You’ll need a savings account in order to open a checking account.”
“I have one.”
“With your husband,” she adds helpfully.
(Here again) “Yes.”
“You’ll need your own.”
“So, I’m required to have a savings in order to have a checking?”
“Then why ask me what type of account I want?”
(Count to ten...look for snowflakes) “If I must have both to have either, then why ask what I’d like.”
Her head tips thoughtfully to the side pairing nicely with her puzzled expression.
I let her think on it a moment while I contemplate the need to join the frenzy to purchase bread and milk.
Her fingers fly over the keyboard and moments later wa-la, my new accounts are established.
“May I take your photo to secure the account?”
My refusal surprises her.
I forgive her because she’s barely twenty and wakes photo ready wearing the rosy glow of youth and tousled tangles of adventure.
At 40++ I flush in flashes and glow with radiance of menopause.
I rouse with sheet prints embedded in my sagging skin and tresses wild from torrid escapades with insomnia.
No- two little letters, no qualification.
Ahh...the empowerment offered in one syllable.
My breath catches... Miss twenty-something thinks I have gas, but I know what this is.
Absent a single flinch I willingly offer the image on file with the DMV.
There she is...my heart pounds...my Goddess in progress.
I hold the feeling like a first kiss knowing the fleeting bliss will be lost but sought again and again.
Glimpsing Goddess...Practiced Patience, Bread and Milk, and two tiny letters N and O.
Be on the lookout for a glimpse of your Goddess, because like me you are moving in the right direction.
Chat soon~ Laura
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