Day 283 - Food Front

We live about 50 steps from a "natural" grocery food co-op.  Sort of like the original Whole Foods, but way crunchier.

I love it because it is small, healthy, and only gives me 2 choices of peanut butter.  Too many choices is confusing, especially when it comes to peanut butter.

Since some member of our family is in there just about every day, we are pretty well known to the people who work there.

In particular a guy I will call "Ed" has paid close attention to us ever since Graham was a baby.  Ed is a perfectly nice person, but I get the sense that maybe he dropped just one hit of acid too many.  Or toured with the Dead.

Probably both.

Anyway - Ed likes the kids, and because of that he learned our names, and always greets me when I am in the store.

That is, until I showed up bald.

For the last six months he has avoided me like the plague.  He will not make eye contact, closes his lane when I show up in the store, and even ignores the kids.

At first I took it pretty personally.  I think one of the hardest things about going through chemo is how uncomfortable it makes other people feel.

But then I began to wonder if somehow he just didn't recognize me anymore.  Maybe he refused to think I was the bald lady.  I would like to think he felt power in his refusal.  That if he didn't recognize me, then in his mind I didn't have cancer, I wasn't going through chemo.

Tonight the store was crowed, and without realizing it, I was in Ed's lane.  We spent a few awkward minutes in front of each other, he scanned and bagged my groceries, I flipped through a magazine.

After I signed my credit slip, almost as if surprised, he said, "Have a good night Mrs. Eikenberry - it is good to see you".

And I thought.

But I have been here the whole time.