Regardless, Love is Kind
The least likely person to hurt you, I’ve found is not a hurt person. We’ve heard in various circles, the converse. I taught our youngest recently that hurt people usually won’t hurt someone else. Let that sink in, to you the reader.
There’s a difference between a nice person and a kind person. My now deceased husband pointed this out to me about a decade or so ago. I agreed. Anyone can be nice. But not everyone can be kind. You have to choose to be kind. It takes some, more effort to be kind than to be nice.
It was August 2005 as I drove my dad back to my home from my Goddaughter’s christening. The drive was long and arduous. It was a Sunday afternoon, and a hot one at that. The traffic on Route 80 was quite often at a standstill that day. So, the usual near six-hour drive took an extra ninety minutes or so. The good thing was I was the driver and I have a long fuse.
If it were my dad then, he would have went through a half pack of cigarettes and perhaps four or six beers while driving. Yet here I was the anti-smoker extraordinaire and back then would only have a glass of wine if I knew for certain I did not have to go anywhere for the rest of the night. Then it was a modest glass of wine three or so ounces and sipped over a two-hour period or until I dumped it out in the kitchen sink.
During the ride that day I knew dad would want to have a smoke. So, when the traffic was at a standstill in the near ninety-degree heat, I put the car in park, turned off the engine and said,
“Dad, I know you want a cigarette. Everyone is getting out of their cars. We aren’t going
anywhere too soon. Go ahead and have a smoke. I’ll keep the windows rolled up.”
“Really?” He was stunned as we looked out the windshield of my car.
“I know you want a cigarette. Its going to be a long ride.” I remarked.
"Well, okay. I’ll do that.” He commented.
Dad got out of the car. I watched him light up and then as usual he began to speak to the people in front of us who’d gotten out of their cars as well. I knew he needed this. He was a social otter, besides his nicotine habits. Too, I knew he wanted a beer. But that would not be accommodated by me. One organ failure is enough. Most people can’t survive two organ failures at the same time. I say that with tongue in cheek because my dad was the exception.
“Even in physical pain if I give up. The bad guy wins. So, I run for love. My job too. When someone else is in pain, it takes me away from mine. To help them, I must come from an empathetic place of love. So, I can give understanding, and an ear to those so pained.” I explained.
My dad jumped on the love theory of healing.
“But Jody you need to feel sorry for yourself.” He stated.
“No. That’s letting the negativity win. And that isn’t love.” I bantered back.
“You’re kidding me. Right?” He remarked.
“No. In order to exist fully you kill the negativity with kindness Dad. It’s the only way to win.” I answered. To that he sighed with disappointment.
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