Plucky and freckled, my neighbor Lana is a young Irish gal who’s always making wisecracks and is quick to lend a helping hand. Lana grew up poor, raised by a quirky single mom whom she says dated men “with more criminal charges than teeth.” To help make ends meet, Lana’s mom would take her daughters dumpster diving. Since Lana was the skinniest child, they would slide her through the fence and under the lid as far as the locked chain would allow. Instead of growing up bitter and resentful, Lana developed a fabulous sense of humor. “There should be ‘Mommy and Me’ classes for adults,” she once joked. She’s currently planning a book called, “If it’s Not One Thing, it’s My Mother.”
This year has been a hard year for Lana. She went back to college at age 25, and she often feels overwhelmed by the crushing workload. One morning, she was at my house, complaining about how hard her life is.
I definitely understood her pain. I know that feeling all too well of drowning in a constant to-do list. I also know Lana well enough to know that she doesn’t enjoy wallowing in self-pity. I wanted to be a good listener, and at the same time, I was tempted to say, “Lana, you’re going to one of the best colleges in the country; you live in a beautiful place, and you have an amazing man who loves you. Your life could be much worse.”
Instead, I quietly stood up and walked over to my desk. In block letters, I wrote down on a Post-it, “POOR ME!” with a smiley face. I walked back over to the table and handed it to her.
Instantly, the “real Lana” was back. She looked at it and cracked up. “A ‘Poor-Me’ Post-it; I love it!” she cried. She walked next door to her apartment and stuck it inside her front door. “This way I can see it every day,” she declared.
“You’re welcome,” I smiled, imagining Lana laughing while dangling from a dumpster. Sometimes a little visual reminder is all we need to get things back in perspective.
© 2010 by Laurie Gardner
