Lynn from Costco

By Courtney Psenicka

If you're a mom, you know that shopping at Costco on the weekend is less of a shopping trip and more of a survival mission. This past chilly, frigid Friday in Wisconsin, I bundled up my daughter and headed out for my weekly shopping trip, which involves stops at multiple stores, ending with our escapades at the one and only Costco.

Costco is one of those places you can spend forever in. Heck, my partner and I have even made a date out of it—walking around, looking at expensive knife sets and home items we don’t need more of. Sampling every sample there is to offer, and finishing with a big finale: an all-beef Costco hotdog or slice of pizza, all while hoping and praying that we can find a table to sit at (especially on the weekend). But when you bring your kids, there’s only one mission—Get in and get out. Well, typically, anyway. Kids get hungry, and it turns out you have to feed them. So, anytime I take my 16-month-old bottomless pit out for a weekend grocery restock, the escapade must end with a Costco lunch.

On this particular Friday, my daughter had already made the trip a little harder than it needed to be. Aside from grabbing every item I placed into the cart and chucking it out as fast as she could, like it was a grenade about to explode, as soon as we got through the store and were at the front of the checkout line—BANG! She dropped my wallet over the edge, causing every single coin in it to hit the floor and scatter. Not only did I hear the sound of my sanity leaving my body, but I also heard the gasps of multiple people behind me who were impatiently waiting for their turn to check out. Thank goodness for the few moms near the front of the line who helped me pick up every single coin. I know they’ve probably been in my shoes, but it didn’t make my cheeks any less rosy. After this incident, I made the educated decision to take my wallet away—but this left my toddler in tears.

My daughter loves to bring me out of my comfort zone by making us the center of attention wherever we go. I truly believe this is God’s way of helping me grow as a person and teaching me patience—while also reminding me that it’s her world and I’m just living in it. After we finally made it through the checkout line, I headed to the food court to order our Costco lunch.

After getting my daughter’s hotdog, I looked over to the table section, hoping and praying that there would be a place for us to sit and I could regain whatever patience I had left. She was growing more irritable by the minute, and, well, so was I. As I headed over there, I didn’t see a table in sight. Just as I felt my eyes welling up with tears (moms, you know this feeling), a nice older lady motioned for us to join her at her table, where she sat alone.

This lady was Lynn, and Lynn was exactly what I needed that day.

I sat down and introduced myself and my daughter, Nora, to this sweet woman. “I’m Lynn,” she said. “I’m not from here, I’m passing through on my way home to Chicago,” she added. Right away, she offered me a napkin and a straw for my daughter’s water, which I forgot to grab—my brain feeling like tangled-up Christmas lights after the checkout incident. As I got Nora situated and started eating her lunch, I took a deep breath and finally felt my nervous system’s “jingle bells” quiet down.

Right away, Lynn commented on the little travel chair I had set up for Nora to eat in. "I highly recommend it if you have grandkids; it’s made my life so much easier when taking her out and about.”

“I wasn’t blessed with children, unfortunately,” Lynn told me, as she gazed at my daughter and smiled, watching her chomping on her hotdog. I replied with sympathy but wasn’t sure if I should add anything else. Lynn didn’t seem to mind. It seemed she had made peace with this part of her life. She was content to just be here in this moment, watching my daughter be her innocent, curious self.

The longer we sat, the more I learned about Lynn and her life. She served in the Navy for 20 years and was married to her husband, who passed away this past March, the entire time. Despite Lynn’s recent loss, she didn’t seem phased by the state of her life currently. “I do things for myself now. I sing in a church choir, I volunteer, I got some cats—I’m happy. Of course, I’m still sad, but I’ve had my time to grieve,” she told me.

As my daughter finished her lunch, we said our goodbyes and exchanged Merry Christmas wishes, and parted ways.

My entire drive home, I couldn’t stop thinking about Lynn. I felt horrible that she was going to spend Christmas alone. I felt terrible that she had lost her husband—the greatest love of her life—and even worse, that she was never able to bear children of her own, even though she so clearly loved and adored them. “Of course, I’m still sad, but I’ve had my time to grieve,” echoed in my head.

In life, we all go through heartache. Whether it’s the loss of a job, struggling with mental illness, or losing a loved one. Of course, we have to grieve those things and feel those difficult emotions. But at the same time, there is a time to cry, and a time to move forward. There’s a time to sit in the sadness, and a time to refocus on what you can do now.

This whole experience with Lynn at Costco gave me an opportunity to feel gratitude. How lucky am I that I have a beautiful daughter who launches things out of my grocery cart and turns the Costco floor into a coin mine? How lucky am I to come home to the comforts of my family at the end of the day, no matter how challenging it was? Despite the difficult things I’ve gone through these past couple of years, I have so many blessings. God has given me so many gifts. I can choose to stay stuck in a space of feeling sorry for myself, or I can grieve and move forward. It’s possible to be sad and happy at the same time. I can still be sad about what’s happening when things are hard, but I can also choose to focus on all the other good things going on around me.

When we got home, I watched my daughter joyfully unpack all our shopping bags. She lit up with excitement as she helped me pull items out. This resulted in a whole bag of grapes dropped on the floor, as well as raspberries smooshed into the carpet. However, this type of green and red—the kind that reminds me of my family, my daughter, and my blessings—is my absolute favorite home decoration this holiday season.

With love and gratitude,

The Mindful Mom

Court