“I heard that! I resemble that remark,” I called out across the paint store to where the customer I had been chatting with had just said something to the store clerk taking care of him at the register. The three of us chuckled. I pushed the door to exit, happy to be alive.

Five minutes earlier, I had entered through those doors to pick up a gallon of a specific paint of their brand. While waiting for some help, the aforementioned customer asked if I was looking for something in particular. He said he knew the store well; in fact, it was his second trip to the shop today and the fifth time in two weeks and he lives 30 miles away. He caught my attention when he mentioned the name of the town, right before he called out to the clerk to inquire whether they carried the paint type in the photo. The clerk asked the manager. “No. That version of our brand sells at Lowe’s.” The distance for me to the nearest Lowe’s is the same as it was for the customer to the store we were in.

My business quickly concluded, I approached the man to comment on the city he referenced. I asked if he fared okay when the big tornados went through a few years ago. He did and he had great things to share about neighbors helping neighbors. He had moved to the town from Colorado five years ago to take care of his mother who had Alzheimer’s. She has since passed away. I told him that I had fond memories of the one-traffic light town that he mentioned; well, it had just the one blinking yellow light when my memories were made there. “I remember the light. There was a car wash bay there.” He nodded. “And a store next to that,” I added. He affirmed my description, “It’s still there. There’s a homemade ice cream shop there now. You gotta try it!” I continued, “We’d turn left at the light, past the car wash and a bit down the road turn into a mobile home park. My dad kept a trailer there for his fishing weekends.” Memories of fishing in that area with mom and dad almost 50 years ago raced through my mind. I’m sure I was smiling. He smiled, too. “That’s where I live,” he said. A bit of small talk continued until the clerk approached the counter and the man asked if his order was ready. I shook the man’s hand and headed to the door to continue my errands.

I overheard the clerk say, “Yes, sir. It’s ready, but I don’t mean to hurry you.”

The man replied, “That’s okay. Just two old men talking.”

“I heard that!  I resemble that remark.” And happily so.

“Life is grand,” as my dad used to say.