The Mechanic and The Broken Heart

Another short story:

Chance meeting is how she would come to get to know the mechanic.
She initially had no clue what he even did for a living.
She had just come along for the ride with a friend.

Had she known her heart would later encounter him she may have been more aware of it all.
She may have paid more attention.
All she remembered was his welcoming manner and ease in conversation and laughter that he brought.
Something that stood out to her and she would later recall with favor.

The fortuitous encounter would open experiences that would not of happened otherwise.
As she would come to learn more about him through S.A.M.s - a game of Something About Me she came to see him in a feeling way.
Not as the "nice stranger", but as someone who was becoming real as the pieces fit together.
Pieces that were composing, no longer just an image but, a caring person.

So one day she decided to carefully place the treasured broken heart that she had guarded in safe keeping for years in herself, and bring it to the mechanic. 
It presented itself unsuspectingly.
Caught him off guard.
Not just the vulnerability, as he too was composing pieces of her into someone he valued and had hoped to someday encounter too, but the extent of the work needed.

It was out of his element.
Although he was intelligent and amazing at the work he did, this was a new challenge he had in front of him.
Not that he hadn't seen broken hearts before, but that the responsibility of such a cherished and even sacred piece was not something he was equipped to fix.
Although he had given it his best effort, in all his years of training and experience he had never completely restored a broken heart.

Because broken hearts take The Master Craftsman, something he wasn't.
Something she in her vulnerable exposure had omitted to ask or to see.
Supposing he was capable because she believed it, wanted it, needed it.
Something that in the end would not be fair to either of them.

And although he yearned to be able to help and was gentle in the handling of the pieces, he could not make the needed repairs.
Not even for himself nor his own heart.
As there is no human that possesses that ability.

As she came to accept this, she carefully picked up what lay in front of her and handed it to him.
And with tears in her eyes she peered deep into his, into his soul, inaudibly speaking words of gratitude, sadness and love as he would gently place the pieces of her heart tenderly back where they had come from.
And as he did, another piece broke and a tear fell from his eye.

Walking to the door, she glanced back one last time at him, gently and very slowly pulling the door shut behind her as she knew the loneliness that would await, for she now no longer saw a mechanic, but a compassionate man. 


"God can heal a broken heart, but He has to have all the pieces."  ~Author Unknown

Too Much Information

As I was picking up my "treat" I asked the cashier if I could have a top/lid.

The man behind me said, "I don't like lids.  It makes it harder to eat."
My Overly Friendly Self: "I know, it does, but it makes it easier for me to eat when I'm driving."
Man:  "You shouldn't be eating and driving."

I, joking as I do, and thinking the man was also joking, raised my eyebrows to the cashier as I was getting scolded and chuckled, "Iii knowww.  But it's sooo good isn't it?!"

Then the man sternly said, "I am a Safety Driving Instructor." (oh, great!) who then went on to reprimand me....I felt like I was in grade school again.  Or defensive ice cream class.

Smiling, I sheepishly glanced at the cashier (like I would a grade school classmate) and we exchanged "busted" looks (because what else do you do at that point?!)...except eat your "treat" and be careful what you say to who you stand next to in line! 
 

I'm In School!

Well, not the traditional school you might be thinking of...

I started a new job and pretty much knew veerrryyy little about most of what my job would entail. 
It is at a fine dining establishment. 
A private club at that. 

When I learned all that I would have to do and learn, I started to feel overwhelmed and inadequate and all the other synonyms that could follow.
The only food I recognized on the menu was baked potato.

Then there were the two pages of the "basic" wine list and that doesn't even begin to get into the other liquors and all that can be mixed up with that assortment!  (Which is pretty mind boggling to someone who has never taken a drink of alcohol and has only worked with children for 40-some years-I know, the children part alone should of drove exposed me to drinking...)

And the trays...carrying meals out on the big oval trays stacked high with expensive food- that takes time to cook...if I accidentally dropped it...
And the little trays for transporting martinis without spilling them.  What liquor is used in a martini anyway?  And who would want their drink dirty?!
 
Just a couple weeks prior, I had decided to go back to "real" school to learn a new "trade".
So I told myself if I was in that school, I would not know anything there either (or very little) so I was going to approach this job just as I would school.
And I would give it my best effort to get a "good grade".

I started by copying  the menu and then typing foreign (literally) words into the computer under dictionary and found you could click on the little speaker icon and it would audibly pronounce the word for you.
Who knew?!
Well, probably you guys did, but it was a magical moment for me! 
(And then I would write it how it sounded to me next to the word.)

Then by visiting the food sites (I still do), helped me to understand what ingredients are in a dish and how it is prepared.  (It almost makes me want to start watching Food Network and take up exotic cooking....almost.)

Then I made make-shift trays to help me with the drinks.  Like this:

This was o.k., but I would eventually practice at work with real glasses filled with water and would learn that the secret is to not look at the tray when walking.  (I heard that works with pumpkin pies too.)
And I also brought a large tray home and carried quart paint cans and old milk jugs filled with water.  
Finally practicing at my work site with real dishes piled high while opening the swinging door and getting through before it swung back.

I still have a lot to learn as this rough ol', small town, sheltered girl, is getting refined and cultured!

"It is important that students bring a certain ragamuffin, barefoot irreverence to their studies...."  ~Jacob Bronowski

But I must say, I am enjoying school and being a student and knowing that yes, you CAN teach an old dog new tricks!


"Get over the idea that only children should spend their time in study.  Be a student so long as you still have something to learn, and this will mean all your life."  ~Henry L. Doherty