A Beautiful Annoyance

I went to a party last night, and every conversation went something like this:
“Hey, Fred!  How are you – ”
“Ferrett!  You look so good!  Oh my God, it’s so good to see you!”
“I know!  I’m standing!  So what’s new with – ”
“We were so worried about you.  How are you feeling?  You okay to be out here like this?”
“Yes, of course, I wouldn’t have come otherwise.  But on Facebook, I saw you were – ”
“I am so glad you’re okay!”
At which point I sighed and gave into the flow, realizing that I would have to tell an accelerated version of How I Discovered I Was Having A Heart Attack before we could proceed with the conversation.  Which, given the quick pace of party conversations in a place suffused with distractions, often meant telling my tale was all the time I got to talk with some very wonderful people.
(And I hate just telling tales.  I mean, I know my stories.  I come to hear yours.)
So as Gini drove me home, I said, “It will be nice when I can attend a party and the first thing I have to talk about is not my heart.”  Because it’s a story I’ve told many times before, and will doubtlessly tell many times after, and it’s not even a fun story.
But still.  It’s an annoyance, but a beautiful annoyance.  Because it’s an expression of people caring about me, and wanting to know how I am, and looking after me.  They all held such love for me in that moment, and this wasn’t about me – I was finally strong enough to reassure them, because they were scared, and didn’t want to lose me, and now I’m here and they want to touch me and hug me and ensure that I’m going to stay with them for a bit longer.
So yes. I’ll talk about my heart as many times as I need to.  Because their concern is an outpouring of love, and I’d be churlish not to respond.
In the meantime, a young girl I didn’t know came up to me last night and said, “I painted my nails for you!” and it was all I could do to choke out a heartfelt thank you before I teared up.  She wandered away, happy to have been of service, but it’s the little things that mean much.  Oh so much.