st. anthony

on losing my shit, but finding something even better

Tuesday was day 2 of my menstrual cycle — aka scorched Earth aka the worst day of the month. Dare I say, the worst day of my life??? I felt bloated, my skin broke out, the bags under my eyes 10x more prominent than usual.

After marinating on my couch with the heating pad super glued to my stomach for most of the day, I somehow mustered up the energy to go to the gym.

As soon as I parallel parked outside of the gym (flawlessly, might I add) I realized my headphones were dead. Fuck.

I was already physically and mentally hanging on by a thread, so if I was a tad bit more dramatic, this would have been my 13th reason. But, I’m not dramatic at all so it was fine. Everything’s fine. I had a charger in my car.

Charger = broken.

Ok. It’s still fine. There’s a Walgreens a few blocks away.

I wobble (literally, that’s what it felt like), down to Walgreens to get a new charger.

$19 for a fucking knock off Apple cord?! In this economy???! Whatever, it’s fine.

I walk back to my car and um —

I bought the wrong charger. USB to USB-C and I needed a USB-C to USB-C or whatever the USB-ABCDEFGH fuck I needed.

If I was a sane person, I’d accept defeat at this point. Not I! I moseyed my way back to Walgreens to return said charger and get the right one. I paid cash for the original charger, so I needed the receipt to make the return.

No, I didn’t have the receipt. It was gone. But Beth, you just bought the—

I know!!!!! I know. Do not underestimate the power of my ADHD diagnosis. I lost the receipt. I won’t take any additional questions at this time.

So I buy the correct charger and at this point I’m like $40 in the red with what felt like every variation of USB charger possible. Narrator: she had two chargers.

Annoyed at myself, at the world, at my cramping stomach, I left Walgreens.

“Am I having deja vu? How many time you gunna walk in and out of there?”

I glanced to my left and realized the man was talking to me. Laughing at me, kind of. I’d seen him countless times before, he always hangs out around this Walgreens.

At this point, I was overstimulated asf, ADHD symptoms were in overdrive, and I was really not in the mood to engage with anyone.

I guess I have a bad poker face because as soon as I looked over at him he asked, “Everything ok sweetheart?”

No!!! No I was not.

“Do you have any use for this charger?” I blurted out as I pulled out the first charger I bought. Idk why this was my first instinct lol but it was.

He laughed. “No, but I could use some cash.” Normally I’m generous with giving spare cash I have, but I just spent it all on chargers I probably have 6 more of at home.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have any more cash on me.”

“That’s ok. I hope your day gets better than it is right now.”

I smiled in acknowledgement and continued back to my car. At this point, this whole charging cord debacle had eaten up like 45 minutes of my time…and my headphones were still dead 👍🤡.

Mind you, I could have driven the >2 miles home to get a different charger.

I got back to my car feeling frustrated and defeated and overstimulated…and you guessed it. I started crying. Ok ok, I know I sound crazy but if you have ADHD you know how common and frustrating these experiences are. It’s like I’m always making my life more difficult than it needs to be — and what’s worse is that I’m hyperaware of it and still continue to do so. Add day 2 of your period to the mix and a pointless sob is simply inevitable.

I pulled down the sun visor mirror to wipe my tears before going into the gym. The photo of my Nona that I keep there fell on my lap, along with the $5 bill I keep with it.

My Nona always carried a stack of crisp $5 bills in her purse. "For anyone who needs it more than I do," she'd say. I watched her hand them out countless times - to the man outside the the Quincy Adams T station, to the woman at the South Shore Plaza, to the Salvation Army Santa Clause with the jingle bells at Roche Brothers. She never questioned if they "deserved" it or what they'd do with it. She just gave.

This was one of the many things she passed down to me, along with other small rituals that shaped how I move through the world - like always keeping fresh flowers in your home and going to the beach when life starts to feel overwhelming.

Lately I've been writing to my Nona a lot in my journal. Not just about her, but to her - as if she might flip through the pages when I'm not looking. I'm constantly searching for signs of her presence in my everyday life, but the more years that pass since she's been gone, the more I realize that staying connected with her requires intention, not just hope. That maintaining her influence in my life is an active choice, not something that happens passively through memory alone.

I picked up the $5 bill and felt fresh tears forming - not from frustration over chargers this time, but from recognition. In that perfect timing that can't be coincidence, my Nona had found a way to tap me on the shoulder to say, “Remember what matters, Beth.”

I tucked the photo back into my visor, took a deep breath, and walked back to the Walgreens man with the $5 bill in hand.

"I found some extra cash, here you go.” I handed him the money.

“Thank you, sweetheart. I’m gunna pray for you.”

Those words - I'm gunna pray for you - felt like another gentle nudge from Nona. While I'm not religious myself, my Nona was a devout Catholic — what I like to call a progressive devout Catholic. She was accepting and loving of everyone, with a bright aura that radiated the warmest energy, no wonder her favorite colors were orange and yellow.

Growing up, whenever I lost something (which was...literally all of the time), she'd have me say a prayer to St. Anthony. "St. Anthony, St. Anthony, please come around, something is lost and cannot be found." She never made me feel judged for constantly losing things. She'd just smile, squeeze my hand, and tell me to send a prayer to St. Anthony. Sometimes the thing would turn up, other times it wouldn't.

As I walked back to my car (for the nth time), I laughed a little bit at the irony and at how ridiculous this whole debacle was. Here I was, decades later, still losing things - receipts, chargers, my composure - but somehow finding exactly what I needed in that moment.

And don’t worry, I restocked the $5 bill in my car for the next time.

I miss you so much Nona. Thanks for always looking out for us <3

Oh, and one more thing — Happy Birthday Dad! and happy retirement! 🥳 (even tho you immediately got another “part time” job working at the golf course). I love you 🫂

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thanks for reading,

b 🫶✨