Kindness matters

 

Growing up, I never knew my dad to be mean to anyone. He was always a communicator, an optimist, and a go getter. If someone had a problem with him, he would do his best to fix the problem whether that was to change his behavior or change how he viewed the situation. But he was never mean…to anyone. I can think of several times throughout the years of hearing my dad talk about town politics and people not agreeing with him and his views. But even though there were differences, he was willing to talk it out and see others views, even though he stood firm in his. I think this tells a lot about my dad. Something I am proud to have learned from him. There is a saying “Be kind to unkind people-they need it the most.” Some would disagree with his statement, but not dad and not me. I think we both are just the type of people who can see that when someone is mean, it probably means they are hurting. And even today, my dad continues to be kind to those who need it the most.



I knew from the first week that Bob (not his real name) was going to be a character. I was sitting in the dining room with dad at the new place and Bob was staring at me, I smiled at him and he said “what do you think you are looking at?” Then the next visit I heard him in action as he yelled at one of the nurse aides about something he wasn’t happy with. Another visit, he comes over to where dad and I are sitting and dad asks him “Did you catch any fish?” And he answered with “It is none of your damn business if I did.” Even the nurse told him that was unkind and to stop talking that way or he would have to leave the room. My mom had mentioned a few times that Bob was not very nice to dad when she was there either. For a few weeks I observed Bob every time I went to visit. It was hard not to feel for him. But I am also protective of my dad, so there was also a little bit of frustration towards this man. He doesn’t know my dad, my dad is kind, and I didn’t want dad to be treated like that. But as I observed Bob, I noticed he watched my dad like a hawk. I don’t know if it was so he could swoop in at any chance he could find to jab at my dad or if he really liked my dad and wanted to be friends. I’d like to think that maybe it is because my dad acknowledged Bob; he would say “hi” with a wave of his hand, try to start a conversation, or just smile and maybe that was starting to change Bob’s heart. Usually dads greetings were met with Bob ignoring him or saying something rude. But my dad never stopped trying or be unkind back. So I decided to follow his lead. Every visit from there on out, I started to say hello to Bob. And slowly Bob would speak to me. This last visit, dad and I were sitting and having some coffee when Bob came in and sat down. We said hello to one another and that was pretty much it. But then my dad said to him, “I know you probably don’t like this sweater I am wearing.” Bob responded with “Well Tony, I do and I was going to see if you’d let me wear it sometime.”



A few days ago, my mom told me that when she arrived, dad was asleep. When he woke up he was very sad. He asked her where his “friend” was. She asked who he was talking about and he said “Bob.” Come to find out Bob was taken to the hospital a few days prior for being sick and had not returned. What a true testament on how powerful being kind is. My dad could have easily been hateful back to Bob. He could have said it wasn’t worth his time to try. But that isn’t my dad. Some people say being kind is weak. I disagree. I think being kind is one of the strongest qualities a person can have. Thank you Dad for who you are, your lessons are pretty amazing! (silver lining).