THAT TIME I STARTED SOBBING IN TARGET
Cindy Maddera
"Paper bird"
Initially I was in the toy section of Target to buy a birthday present for one of the Cabbage's little friends because we have to take the Cabbage to a birthday party on our weekend. We're creeping into birthday season, so I expect that many of our weekends will be spent driving from one party to the next. I probably should have let the Cabbage pick out the present, because I can hear the complaining already, but that's another story. Probably for Mother's Day. It was just easier for me to pick up a gift then to wait until we had the Cabbage with us. Then we'd be scrambling to get the present, wrap it and get to a party across town. I'll take the imagined complaints to save us from scrambling. Any way, I pushed my shopping cart down the so called "girls" isle, frowning at the Monster High dolls, which is what I ended up getting. I did notice that Barbie has a new reasonable waist. So head nod to that, Mattel.
I turned my cart down the Star Wars isle because I noticed that they had restocked a bunch of things. I already have a Rey action figure, but she's a little bit bigger than the original figures. They make the original sized figures of all the other characters and I'm still looking for a Rey in that size. I went through everything on the shelves and never found a Rey figure. Nothing. The only Rey I found was the 'Janku' Rey with her speeder bike and it was more than I wanted to spend or should be spending. I did consider getting a Poe Dameron or the die-cast Millennium Falcon and it was while I was considering these things that a brick hit me in the face and I sat down hard in the middle of the isle and started sobbing.
I cried because I was angry at manufactures for not providing enough Rey figures and I cried because I knew that half of those toys would be in our house by now if Chris was still with us. There would not be any hemming and hawing on whether or not to buy the Poe Dameron or the 'Janku' Rey. I cried because I was angry at the kid I'd heard weeks ago call them A-T-A-Ts instead of AT-ATs. I cried because I still wanted to slap my niece's boyfriend for calling it the Millennial Falcon. It's the MILLENNIUM Falcon, you idiot! Yeah, I probably shouldn't have said that out loud, but fuck it all. I said it. I cried because I felt ridiculous for my comic book guy snobbery and know it all attitude about all things Star Wars. I cried because I knew so much about Star Wars in the first place. I cried because the teaser for the newest Star Wars movie had just been released. And God Dammit all, it is all just too fucking much. Because that person who should be here to appreciate all the Star Wars is not here and it's like having salt and lemon juice rubbed into paper cuts on my heart.
I rail at the timing of everything. Why did they wait this long for a really good reboot of the Star Wars series?!? Couldn't they have released the latest movie just maybe five years earlier? At least he would have had that one movie before it all ended. Then I rail at the unfairness of everything. I want kick that whole "life isn't fair" thing in the shins, because I don't understand, can't even begin to comprehend, why it has to be so unfair. I am surprised by how violent grief has made me. I want a bloodletting. I just haven't decided whose blood needs to be let yet, but by golly, when I figure that out I'm coming at you with all of the knives. Not really. I'm more of a woman of thoughts and no action. But I'll tell you, my thoughts are bloody even when my rational brain is resigned to the idea of no Chris or Star Wars without Chris. Chewie without Han.
I wiped my face on the hem of my t-shirt and pulled myself off the floor. I took a deep breath and looked at the things in my cart. One Monster High Frankie Stein doll, some Shopkins, and a bag of hand soap refill. I nodded to the things in the basket and said to no one in particular "OK. OK." and I ignored the confused worried stock boy as I turned that cart around and continued with my shopping. That's it really. I just let the brick hit me and moved on.
As always.