Remember that shopping trip? You know, the one on Hanukkah...?? (How can you forget a day like this??)
Anyway, one of the things we hoped to find at the mall was a sweatshirt for Y. Y really wanted a FOX sweatshirt that zippered down the front. Now, I am normally not one for buying name brands, but the price was right. Unfortunately, the size was not. They did not have the color she wanted (pink) in her size. In fact, the did not have her size in any color that she was willing to wear. Argh!
To my surprise, FOX has a really great exchange policy. So, I was going to purchase a sweatshirt in the wrong size, just so we could benefit from the sale (50% off). But, the sales clerk was kind enough to tell me that the sale was ongoing. Well, after almost a month, they finally got the stock we wanted. I was a little nervous that, after so much time, we might have missed the sale price. We did not.
Today, I took Y to the mall, we went right in, picked up the sweatshirt of her dreams, paid the sale price, and walked out.
So, what does this ordinary story have to do with the title of this post?
Well, on the way into the mall, in the midst of some mundane conversation about how people use expired handicapped parking permits after they no longer need them, Y asked me what I would miss in the event that my cancer was cured.
At first, I was not sure I heard her correctly. Then I was not sure I understood what she meant. But she meant what she said (and she said what she meant....). She wanted to know what I would miss if I did not have cancer anymore.
"Nothing." I answered, without hesitation.
"Really?" She asked, "Nothing?"
I thought for a minute, then answered, "free parking."
"Nothing else?" She asked again.
I thought some more. "No," I continued, "nothing else. I would miss the free parking. Nothing else."
"You wouldn't miss all your friends coming to visit you?" she asked.
"We would go out to a cafe (coffee shop)," I responded, still unclear what was prompting these questions.
I am still not sure. As quickly as the conversation popped up, that's how quickly it ended. It got swallowed up by the ebb and flow of the mall.
As we made our way to the store, Y told me about a class she had at school in which the teacher discussed shopping and values and how the malls are designed to make people spend money frivolously. Y thought the teacher exaggerated. "I only buy the things I need," Y declared.
Later, after we purchased the sweatshirt, we searched for a bag for Y. We found one on sale that she liked a lot. The bag was only 19 NIS and the store would not charge a credit card for less than 25 NIS. So we tried to find something for another 6 NIS. After looking around for almost 15 minutes, I said to Y, "this is just what your teacher was talking about!" We laughed as we realized that we were just looking to spend money (even if it was only a little money) on something we did not really need or want. So I paid for the bag with cash, and we left the store.
We got what we came for and we were done.
As we headed back to the car, our conversation was light and carefree.
Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.
With love and optimism,
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