Dump Confession
Hello Everyone. Good Wishes. Here is an excerpt from Life Flashes: A Memoir chapter thirteen. Peace. Merrie H. Reagan
Saturday, September 25, 2010
While he was talking with me this afternoon, a Cohasset Recycling Transfer Center (CRTC) employee was unknowingly playing the role of confessor. Having grown up referencing the recently newly named recycling center as The Dump, I now find not calling the center The Dump feels, well, uncomfortable. Truthfully, sometimes saying The Dump evokes laughter and a little embarrassment. Likewise, sometimes saying The Recycling Transfer Center comes across as, ah…, overly intense, or excessively serious.
Wearing a red shirt and blue jeans, the dump employee may have seen me throwing three plastic trash filled bags that were not covered with a large, mandated town-identifying plastic trash bag into a dumpster. Each town trash bag costs $1.50; a pack of ten costs fifteen dollars. Having seen household plastic trash bags which had not been covered with another town-mandated plastic trash bag appearing in a nearby dumpster and feeling weakly justified, I pitched the three plastic bags filled with household trash that I brought here from home into the same dumpster.
Minutes later, mentioned transfer center employee walked past me. Remorse invaded me. Intentionally, I immediately walked straight toward the man, and when I was near reaching him, he suddenly began turning toward me, as I was saying, “Ah…, pardon me, I want to confess something.” Facing me, he viewed me calmly and then quizzically.
Then he heard me nervously say, “I put three trash-filled plastic bags into a dumpster without covering them with mandated Town of Cohasset trash bags.” Instantly becoming defensive found me also being questionably assertive. “I think covering plastic trash bags, using another plastic trash bag, costing a dollar-fifty per bag, is silly,” I stated.
Climaxing the confession monologue and continuing to address the Dump employee, I solemnly admitted to loving Cohasset and wanting to respect Cohasset trash bag regulations, whether or not liking the rules. Then I apologized. “I am sorry for having done this and will not do it again,” I said quietly. While cautiously raising my lowered head, I curiously viewed the dump employee who had suddenly become a confessor. He observed me, emanating kindness, compassion, and respect.
“Good deal,” he humbly responded. The spiritual judge then walked past me. What? I thought. No lecture? No condescending attitude? Interacting with the gentleman left me wondering, was he ever a priest? Whether or not this is so, this fellow human being is clearly a true and admirable confessor.