I'm not sure how to address this letter to you, because "Dear sweet elderly lady in the middle of the peanut butter aisle at Walmart" doesn't really have the nicest ring to it. I've had a hard week. If I'm being truthful, I've had a hard year. As a college senior, (for the second time) I had quite a few life plans set out for myself, from the man who I loved to the education I have always wanted to pursue. Almost all of those life plans have been forced to change this past year. I didn't apply to graduate school due to grades, my relationship ended suddenly, and most everything that I thought was my foundation and my rock changed.

I have battled mental illness my entire life. It is very important to me to never present my mental illness as an excuse, but college is stressful enough as it is. Once you mix in a sprinkle of OCD, a dash of generalized anxiety disorder, and a cup of depression, it can seem nearly impossible at times. Add a boy telling you he isn't sure if he was with you because he loved you or with you because he needed you, take the full amount of hours, work two jobs and you've got a little bit of stress.

This semester has been hard. Really, really unbelievably hard at times. The past few weeks I have dealt with depression and anxiety to the point I have started just telling myself to make it to the weekend when my parents visit. This week has been one of the hardest for me emotionally. Yesterday, my little brother was working late, and I just didn't want to be home alone. I was watching Netflix and decided I would run to go grocery shopping to take my mind off of things. Grocery shopping is fun for me because I'm a bit of a nerd. I decided to run to Aldi and by the time I had finished up there, the little natural food store I always love to go to had already closed. I was exhausted and didn't feel like going to Walmart. I don't know about you, but Walmart is the worst. I try not to go in when during regular hours because I'm not a fan of all the people. But, my rice cakes just desperately needed banana slices to go on top of the almond butter I was about to slather on them before bed so I decided to make a quick run to Walmart.

I was headed to find some PB2 because I was in a health conscious mood and you were trying to reach the almond butter. You asked me to check the top shelf for a special kind because you were too short to reach, and unfortunately they were out. You said thank you, and asked me about the unhealthy cheesecake hazelnut spread I was eyeing on the shelf and walked away. I instantly felt sad and wished I could have talked to you a little bit more. My grandma on my dad's side passed away a year or so ago, and my grandma on my mom's side (my step-grandma) passed away about a month ago. Lately, whenever I see an elderly lady I instantly start missing having a grandma to talk to, to have a grandma's house to go visit, to have someone to talk about recipes and memories with. I start feeling sad that I didn't reach out and talk to my grandmas more. Whenever I saw you, for some reason I felt like my grandma was a little closer in that moment and I just didn't want you to leave. It was like my grandma was watching over me through you, as crazy as that sounds. It felt like she sent me a reminder that it's all going to be okay.

I instantly said under my breath, "I wish I would have talked to her a little bit longer." I don't even know what we would have talked about; we were just two strangers in the peanut butter aisle after all. Almost as soon as I the thought crossed my mind that I wish you would come back to talk, you came back! I looked up and you were going through my little cart and started asking about all my items. You noticed I went back and got the cheesecake spread after all. "You're worse than me, honey. Still over here deciding." You started asking about the cheesecake spread and let me know it looks good, but you have diabetes so you wouldn't be able to eat it. You asked about the PB2 and I explained that I do put it in my smoothies and you thought it sounded neat. I told you to have a good night as quickly as I could because I then had to find a way to make it to the next aisle so you didn't see me burst into tears. I'm sure I would have looked like a huge weirdo had you seen me cry over a conversation about peanut butter.

I went to the next aisle and I cried big tears. I missed having a grandma so much. They weren't sad tears, they were just thankful tears. It felt like my grandmas were more present, and I felt comforted in that moment in Walmart. Annoying ol' Walmart of all places. I don't know if you're religious or spiritual or any of the above, and even I have times where I struggle to believe in anything bigger than myself, but I needed to see you that night, and I think that something else knew I needed to see you, too. I don't know honestly how I feel about "signs" or things like that, I just know that I felt really happy that you were there and I felt really comforted to get to talk to you. I felt so distraught and alone and I was so mentally tired. I was just so tired. The second I needed to talk to you again, there you were. I had the strongest feeling to go tell you what our thirty second conversation meant to me, but I was too shy to go and find you and let you know. And I wasn't quite sure how to let you know that you reminded me of my grandma without sounding insulting. Your makeup was on point, so I had a feeling you were a sassy lady who took pride in her appearance and wouldn't take kindly to being called a grandma or a little old lady. I'm so thankful you were there. I don't know anything about you, but I know that I needed you that night, and I'm so glad that our stories aligned.