After mom passed away it took me a while to get back into reading. I couldn’t sit, or focus for any length of time. When I was handed the book The Happiness Project, I knew I had my reading bug back. My next book was by Jenny Lawson. It was exactly what I needed. Maybe SHE was exactly what I needed.
*spoiler alert* she has a new book and I am excited to get my hands on it as soon as I can.
In her book, Let’s Pretend This Never Happened, she tells a story about heading out with a friend to go shopping. On her way out, her husband says something about ‘Don’t buy any towels’. Well, she didn’t buy towels. She bought a chicken. A 5 foot, metal chicken.
This story resonated with me. Could it be that I was just coming back into reality after mom passed away and the idea of someone telling me what to do just sent me over the edge? Could it have been that if I felt we needed more towels, I should be ALLOWED go buy more towels? And towels? Really? That’s what you want to tell me NOT to do? That’s what you’re picking?
BRING IT ON
I get the chicken. I understand the chicken.
I want to talk about this more at a later date as it is still quite raw with Dad’s passing, but I find quite a bit of relief in retail therapy when I am grieving. Before mom passed, I wouldn’t have believed you if you said retail therapy is a REAL thing. But now? Holy cow, I believe you and forgive me for doubting you. Retail therapy sooths my soul, and to be told I can’t? Here I am, a responsible adult being told I can’t? What the what?
Anyway. Let’s get back to that beautiful chicken.
And then I saw it. Here, in my little corner of the plant, a 5 foot chicken for sale. I drove by the chicken every day for months. I even went to go look at her one day. But I never had the guts to buy her until the day she wasn’t there & I gasped. I came home crying, sobbing to Darren that someone had bought her. Darren was quite confused and I explained the best I could. When he asked, ‘well, did they need towels’ and I said ‘well, no.’ I sensed he wanted to say more…
When I came home that evening I had a 2 foot tall chicken waiting for me. He really is the sweetest man. He bought me the chicken that stood for frivolous, for spontaneity, for my independence. Insert more crying, that man gets me even when I don’t.
Two days later, when a second shipment of 5 foot chickens came in did I buy one? You better believe it. I think she is beautiful. And my husband’s acceptance of my needing a 5 foot chicken is even more beautiful.