Is it worth it?

May 14, 2017

I worked the usual closing shift on Mother’s Day. Usual being that I close on Sundays (not that I avoid sentimental holidays towards family). Every year I work it and every year I say the same thing, “Fuck! I’m a bad son.” The guilt then gradually fills me throughout the rest of the day.

I left my mother forty dollars for a new pair of pants on the kitchen counter before I left for work. I placed the money in a purple envelope along with a blank card. Nothing was written in it. I figured the water colored flowers printed on the cover said it all. I sealed the envelope and wrote “Happy Mother’s Day” on the front. I knew, eventually, this money would go towards paying a bill of some sort.

At work I thought about the “why”. The late shifts, the money, the exhaustion. Was it worth me missing all these tiny celebrations with my family?

Once I was completely full of guilt, stuck, with no expectation of leaving, I forked up ten dollars for dinner, an all-to-myself pizza pie. And so my usual night shift continued.