Chicken Soup

I miss my mommy.

She lives way up in North Carolina and I live way down here in South Carolina and we don't get to see each other much.

She came to see me over Labor Day, but that was a long time ago, now.


She will be 80 years old in January. She has been my mommy for almost 50 years. I call her on the phone about 2 or 3 times a week. She lets me whine. She feels sorry for me when I am tired or sick or sick and tired. She "chicken soups" my soul.

Other than my mother, it occurred to me that the other significant "chicken soupers" in my life are:

Noreen the cashier and Bill the bagger at the supermarket. They know I have a big family. They know when company is coming and when the college kids are coming home. They know I am terribly forgetful and that I come back to the supermarket almost daily to pick up something I forgot. They know that I am collecting the little stickers because Martha wants the free Panini press. I know about them too. I know what they did for a living before they retired and left their homes to come live at the beach. I know where they go to church and that one is a widow and the other volunteers at Brookgreen Gardens. If I get lonely, I pretend like I forgot something at the supermarket and I go get my love tank full with Noreen and Bill.

The Post Office Lady. I know that sounds a little harsh, but I don't know her name. But we know each other. She sends the goodies out to the college kids for me. She knows that I send 250 Christmas cards and that ALL stamps should have Jesus on them, in my opinion. She gets migraines and has a little boy who isn't so little anymore. She follows the WHS Competition Cheerleaders because she knows my daughter is on the team. She chases me out to my car when I leave my wallet on the counter.

Susan, the dog groomer. Susan is going through a divorce. She told me last night. She has had enough of being treated badly. She was married 10 years, but they only have poodles, not kids. When her mama died, she left Susan a little money and Susan put a big down payment on her house. It will be paid off in 2 years. Susan would rather rock alone on the front porch of the house she almost owns than rock along with someone who talks mean to her. We hugged. I am praying for Susan.

Sandra, the bank teller. Sandra knows that I forge my children's signatures on the back of babysitting checks, tax refunds, insurance checks and so on.....she isn't telling. She also knows that I am the treasurer of the WHS Cheerleading Booster Club and that I can't add. She lets me make more than 3 transactions in the drive thru window. She has photos of her kids in her window and also photos of her puppies - you want one? Puppies, not the kids.

Bob, the builder. Technically, Bob is at my house to seal off the crawl space. We have moisture problems. But he ends up doing other things....adjusting doors, fixing dimmer switches, moving planters on the deck, hanging bird-feeders, stacking wood. He better hide under my house today or I might have him making green bean casserole and dressing! Bob is a Christian. He tore his rotater cuff, has been married and happily divorced. No kids. He likes music and he sings loudly. I like that about him.

There are countless others that "chicken soup" my soul -the church secretary, the dry-cleaner guy, the florist, the pharmacist (she calls me 'hon'), the pediatrician's secretary, and the store clerk at my favorite local shop, and all the people who read my blog....

Now, these folks don't replace the love of my mother and they can't even compare to the life-long friendships I have forged over the years, but the reality is, they see me more often. If I went too long without showing up, they would worry. That is "chicken soupy" if you ask me. That is why you should smile at these people. Ask them about themselves. Show a little of your sweet vulnerability.

'Cuz your mommy isn't always around and sometimes you need a little chicken soup.

~J