“Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.”

Mark Twain

Has anyone been truly nice to you? For no reason, other than the fact that they chose to be that way. Have you been truly nice to others? For no reason at all.

I often wonder why we are quick to criticise others yet somehow manage to embellish what we do. It must be human nature.

Have you been to a funeral? Or watched one in a movie? One by one they stand on the stage, whether it’s a church or an outside gathering, saying the praise of what a wonderful person the deceased was when they were alive. All touching stories of incredible kindness, helping to change a tire in the middle of the rain, helping with the garden, paying the groceries, watching the kids without expecting payment in return, on and on. What a great father, husband, brother, grandfather or neighbor they were.

I often wonder. Did they share those anecdotes of gratitude when they were alive? Did people really walk around recognizing how very loved they are?

Highly unlikely.

One of the patients I had years ago, had an inoperable brain tumor. Right from the get go, she did not want chemotherapy or radiation. She wanted to have a big party, a celebration to have all the friends and family invited. Her daughter was on board. The two had thought about this. If this was ever going to happen to her, they were going to let her go with a bang. A big band, singing and dancing before it was too late. I said, that was clearly her choice. I wasn’t going to talk her out of it.

Their faces lit up.

Later that day, I sent her home with hospice. She died at home 4 months later. Her daughter sent me photos of the party. It was so beautiful. Like the Kentucky Derby. Everyone all dolled up.

Years later, I met another patient who had progressive supranuclear palsy. This is a very fast progressing neurological decline that patient becomes nearly unrecognizable in a matter of months. Apparently, because he was declining and he did not want his friends to see him in this condition, he had hired a male caregiver and stayed home. The rumors started circulating that in his old age of 70, he was becoming gay. So he wanted to have the last laugh. He had scheduled to have a big “coming out party” and invited all of his friends from near and far calling it just that.

In their little community, there was so much commotion. How long was he gay? Really? At 70 years of age. How was this possible? Some people thought, they always knew. Some saw it coming. Regardless, he had paid for the catering, the entertainment and the venue. The day of the party, he was admitted to the hospital with a seizure. When he became somewhat lucid, he asked “Is the party still on?”. He told his family that he wanted them to go through with the party.

The coming out was to tell them all that he had the progressive disease and was going to die soon. He wanted to see their expression when he told them this. The joke was on them.

He died the next morning.

Do we treat each other with love and respect no matter what? Do we try to take the burden off of each other just a little bit?

When in doubt, do we make up stories in our minds to understand people? Stories that invariably imagine the less plausible and kind scenario.

When my daughters were at Waldorf school, there was a saying that was on the hallway wall. It said, before you speak consider this:

Is it true?
Is it kind?
Is it necessary?

I loved those questions and it always made me pause and think.

I think somewhere between when people throw themselves a coming out party to set their facts straight and when they die, we should take it upon ourselves to initiate to be kind.

Otherwise, you are stuck saying all that you wanted to tell them just a little too late.

So much love to you.