#49 Keep a Tight Rein on Your Temper
Ross and I were on our way to town, listening to his mix of favorite tunes. I could feel my muscles tense and felt my face start to flush. But I tried my best to keep calm and make the ride to his program as normal as possible.
It was going to be a busy day and the anticipation of marking things off my ever-growing to-do list had me up early and raring to go. We had only moved once since we were married thirty-seven years ago. Well, twice counting our few months in an apartment as newlyweds. This one was big, from Illinois to Arizona. We had not gotten by without any stressful moments. But we made a conscious effort not to dwell on them, which wasn’t always the easiest thing to do.
We began the process of replacing the old stove shortly after purchasing our home in Arizona. It was not at all as seamless as we had hoped. The electrician promised everything would be done on a certain day. “I’ll be there at 9 AM.” That time and a few other appointments came and went, until finally, he was done.
Greg had moved the old stove in the garage days earlier so it would not be in the way. Also, leaving the space open so the new one could slide right into place.
Then it was the appliance store’s turn. The delivery day and time kept changing. The uncertainty was taking its toll on all of us, especially Ross. His diet is limited and the majority is prepared with the stove. We had been without a very essential appliance for several days and it was causing a big disruption to his day.
After rearranging my schedule yet again, the stove was finally delivered.
We were all excited to finally connect our new appliance when I heard Greg say. “Hum, something’s not right. This isn’t the right cord.”
“Are you kidding me!” I snapped back. “Great, it’s after five and they’re closed. Now I’ll have to stop by first thing in the morning to exchange cords.” As I gathered the paperwork, I noticed they didn’t give us the $100 off, as advertised. One more frustrating thing and one more issue to address in the morning.
I don’t like confrontations and I avoid them at all costs. But not today.
As I approached the door to the appliance store the overwhelming anger grew with every step I took. I began to shake and could feel my heart beating; faster and faster. At the same time, saying a prayer that everything would go smoothly and my anxiety was for nothing.
“I’d like to speak to the manager.” My temperature was climbing and beads of sweat began to glisten on my forehead.
“Yes, I’ll get her,” the store associate said.
As she approached, I tried to remain calm. “We received the wrong cord with the stove yesterday.”
She responded, “That’s hard to believe.”
“Well, it’s wrong and I’ll need to take the correct one with me today. Also, we didn’t see the $100 off on our invoice.”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s there. You probably missed it,” she said confidently.
All the built-up stress of the past weeks came flowing out and could not be stopped. I revisited all the issues that we had in the last couple of weeks. Like falling on deaf ears, her excuses went on and on.
“It shouldn’t be my problem that you can’t seem to do your job.” I spewed. “We have been dealing with this for the last five days, and we still don’t have a working stove. You continually moved the delivery date, gave us the wrong cord and now this. I have a son with autism. He has a very limited diet and I can’t cook for him!” I said, trembling and on the verge of tears.
And then –
“How old is your son?” she asked.
“34,” I responded in a shaky voice.
“I have a son with autism. He’s 9. We are having a hard time with him sleeping through the night. Do you have any suggestions that could help?”
I was so shocked and I wasn’t sure I heard her correctly.
“Um, have you tried…” I honestly don’t remember what I told her. I was just annoyed that she was attempting to redirect the conversation.
“He also has trouble with certain foods. Do you have any ideas that would help him have a more balanced diet?”
After a few minutes of answering her questions, I felt my heart begin to soften and my body cool down. No longer conflicted with the direction of our conversation. I was giving guidance to a younger mom, not that far on her autism journey. We were two mothers simply talking about our sons.
She assured me that she would take care of all the issues. Then handing me the correct cord for our stove and an updated invoice.
Before I turned to leave, I gave her a hug. The same woman I chewed out ten minutes ago, I offered a hug. At that moment we were on the same side and we both understood the importance of compassion. I left the store with tears in my eyes, not from anger this time.
I have often referred to this exchange as not one of my finest moments, because I certainly don’t go around yelling at store personnel. But through her questions and concern for her child, I was able to remember those same tough days and offer a moment of comfort, from one mom to another.
I think about her every once and a while, especially when I drive by the appliance store. I wonder if she remembers the lady that yelled at her and then offered a hug.
