“Nah,” I mentioned. “It’s just a dumb frying pan.”
By then, he knew me properly sufficient to not shrug it off. “Why do I feel like there’s a story here?”
I hadn’t instructed anybody the embarrassing fact of the pans, however with him, the story poured out. “Over a decade ago,” I mentioned, “my mother found a gorgeous new cookware set on sale at Macy’s. She was saving it for my wedding shower, or my sister’s, whichever came first. Because that hasn’t happened yet for either of us, the pans sat in my mother’s basement, mocking me every time I went down there. So last month, I finally took them.”
My mom hadn’t instructed me to take them — not as a result of she didn’t suppose I deserved to, however as a result of doing so felt like I used to be dropping out for each me and my sister.
“Honestly, I’m not sure why I took them,” I mentioned. “I thought I would feel empowered, but I just feel sad.” I seemed on the floor as my eyes welled with tears. Blinking them away, I mentioned, “Anyway, to use instead, I bought an overpriced, nontoxic pan I saw on Instagram, and you just delivered it.”
Dave stood quietly for a second, as if understanding a sophisticated math downside. “I had a dream the other night that the world ended,” he mentioned, “but I survived. I know that’s a lousy thing to say given what’s happening, but it wasn’t sad, because my family survived too.” He shrugged behind his masks. “I wonder: If it all disappeared, except for you, your family, your house, would those pans hold the same meaning?”
I shook my head. “Probably not.”
“You are exactly where you are supposed to be,” he mentioned. “I believe that. And I hope someday you do too.”