His Face Lit Up.
Editor’s note: This post meanders like a tour through my brain. If you want clear writing with a definitive moral, this might not be the place for you today.
When I first started traveling for work, back in the day, if a flight was delayed due to bad weather, they would say that.
“We’re delayed due to a storm over Chicago.”
“There’s a thunderstorm moving through. We hope to have you in the air within the hour.”
They’ve scrubbed the personality out of those announcements and instead you now hear, “We’re experiencing weather over Chicago.” (Well of course you are! That’s how weather works!)
“There’s a weather delay. We’ll update you when we know more.”
In that vein, I’m not going to tell you I’ve had a bad day or a good day.
It’s been a day.
I went to see my hospice clients, a group of folks all housed in the same nursing home, and they were either asleep or in activities so I didn’t get to visit with any of them. I sat with some while they slept and prayed for them, but praying doesn’t feel like enough.
Speaking of praying not feeling like enough, Great-Nephew Cash had another setback today. I almost didn’t share the update with the family because yesterday things had been on an upswing, and we were all so hopeful for some respite for all of them as we head into Christmas. It doesn’t seem like that will happen.
But I did share it with the family because lately I’ve realized one of the biggest lessons life has taught me with age is the ability, necessity, and power of holding two or more huge emotions at once. To feel excitement about Christmas and time together with my tribe, while holding the sorrow and worry about Cash at the same time…that’s hard emotional work.
Feeling outraged and demoralized at the immorality and lying of this administration while knowing there are people I know, love, and value, who think President Trump is not just okay, but great; that’s a tough lesson. There’s value there, but it’s hard to find.
But then, in my outing to the grocery stores, where I had resolved to be kind and patient and relaxed with every person I met, I had multiple lovely interactions. One white woman a little older than me and I had an aisle all to ourselves in Kroger. She had her speaker phone on while she talked to her son, and I got to listen to their plans for Christmas presents. He ended the call with, “Love you, Mom.”
As she and I worked our way down the aisle, she commented to me about people calling when you are out and about, and how that can be annoying, but I thought to myself, “But I heard your son end with love, and that tells me something about you.” So I made a joke about needing the phone for our grocery lists, and we both laughed and wished each other Merry Christmas.
After I had gotten all the groceries purchased, and was driving slowly through the parking lot, allowing anyone who needed to cross the chance to do so with a cheerful smile and wave, a young white man, probably 22, with blond hair and a slender face, walked in front of my car. He turned to look at me, and I thought, “He doesn’t look very nice.” (Shame on me, I know.)
And then he smiled.
That smile transformed his face. Absolutely transformed him.
He looked impish and friendly and oh so very kind.
His face lit up and my heart lightened for awhile.
I’m so incredibly grateful for these little touches of humanity I get every day. It helps so very much.
The world is hard. Kindness and laughter and connection help.
