I’ve been walking through a dark valley lately. It’s been hard to smile these days.
So I was glad for a recent dental appointment. It was a relief to walk into a place not named “hospice” and to know my dentist would put a smile on my face.
He always does.
He once told me he’d never retire because he loves his work too much. He’d miss it. Which wasn’t quite right. For him it’s never been about the teeth. It’s always been about the people in the chair.
He welcomes each of us as a brother or sister.
He makes us feel important. He remembers who we are and what we do. He remembers our kids, their names, their sport, their band instrument, and (if we’ve got any) our grandkids, pets, and sorrows.
He’s cheerful and playful. Give him just five words from any rock song from the ’60s and ’70s and he’ll tell you the title. Instantly.
All my teeth, north and south.
“Moonshadow,” by Cat Stevens.
Places I remember.
“In My Life,” by the Beatles!
Winter, spring, summer or fall
“You’ve Got a Friend,” by Carole King
(See what I mean?)
And then suddenly he catches himself, notices the bib around your neck, and remembers he’s a dentist.
Well, as long as you’re here, would you like me to look at your teeth?
You can see why I was happy to see my dentist last week.
I settled into The Chair of Great Consolation. He came in and plopped onto a stool. He was not smiling.
(He’s not smiling!)
I’ve got some sad news, he said.
(Oh, my god. Please, no!)
What sad news?
This will be our last session.
(He’s terminal!)
I’m retiring.
WHEW.
I can live with that. Not happily, but I will. It’s a shock. It hurts. But it’s better than death.
So I will not cry or complain.
I will not be like the mother who cried out to God to save her son who’d been swept far out to sea. She pleaded with the heavens. And suddenly a large wave arose and washed her son, alive, onto the shore.
She ran and hugged him. Then she stopped, looked at his head, looked up to the heavens, and yelled: Hey, he had a hat!
Yes, I’ve lost my dentist. But I’ve still got a friend.
And I’m smiling.
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