Be Kind, Be Christmas
People love to talk to me. Not because I'm a sparkling conversationalist, (I'm not.), but because I like to listen. And I love to ask questions.
I'm not good in big groups of people. Too many voices. But I love to talk to people one on one. I can concentrate on one person and immerse myself in their stories.
I especially like to listen to health care professionals. Of all the careers out there, they're the most underappreciated and the most tired.
Think about it. They listen to people's problems ALL day long. No one ever asks them how they feel. Whenever I visit my doctor, vet, or even the person who takes blood or X-rays, I always take the time to ask about them.
Not just the usual, "how are you doing?", but more personal things. If I don't know them, I'll usually ask about the comfy shoes they're wearing, their jewelry, and even their tattoos. I want them to know that I'm genuinely interested in them.
My relationship with my doctor started that way. I see her once, maybe twice a year. One time she came in cheerful and smiling, but there was something in her face that made me think something was wrong.
I asked her if she was all right. Her face turned dark in an instant. Her grand baby had died overnight in his crib. She was devastated, but she was still doing her job.
I hugged her, something I normally don't do with professionals, but this was a woman in pain. To my surprise, she wouldn't let go of me. I got the feeling this was the first time someone had acknowledged her pain.
I came to realize what an amazing woman she was. Every year I see her, and there's some new terrible episode in her life. One year, she lost her house in a fire, another year, her and her husband were in a horrific motorcycle accident. Last year, she lost the use of her fingers and underwent surgery, not knowing if it would work. This year, her husband died of his injuries from that previous motorcycle accident. He'd been suffering with head trauma for over four years.
When you think of the troubles other people bear, you start to think yourself very lucky.
As you go about your days, remember that we may not always know what another person is bearing in silence. Be kind. Be Christmas, all year long.
Merry Christmas, everyone.
Comments
Sometimes it feels like the holidays are cursed because we have personally experienced losses of friends, family and pets during a time that is meant to be full of joy.
This was a very thoughtful posting and am glad you shared it.
Merry Christmas week before it gets here because time marches on quick at the end of a year.
I can see the light at the end of the tunnel though. A few more extra meals and some cranberry bread for my neighbors and I can call the year done.
I have a neighbor who gives us the most ostentatious food towers. It's gorgeous, but it's too much, especially for two people. I'd be content with a little tin of nuts. I just haven't figured out how to tell them that. At Christmas especially, it's more about the sentiment than quantity.
But I try to keep in touch with everyone as best I can.