Type 1 – Kindness.
I was sitting in a local diner with my intern. As we waited for our food to be delivered, the lady (probably in her 70s) at the booth in front of us walked to the booth behind us where another woman (also probably in her 70s) sat. The following conversation unfolded:
Old Lady 1: Hi. I was wondering if you’d like to join me at my table.
Old Lady 2: Oh. That’s ok. I’m used to eating alone.
Old Lady 1: Me too. But if you’d like to eat together that would be nice.
Old Lady 2: Well, I think I’ll just sit here.
Old Lady 1: I would really like the company.
Old Lady 2: Thank you so much. I really appreciate that.
The two old ladies ate dinner together and seemed to connect in only a way two old ladies can. They chatted and giggled throughout their meal.
Type 2 – Oblivious.
I had gotten to work at 8am on Thursday morning and parked right in front of the office door. I had to unload and haul in $1800+ worth of toys and clothes for my foster kiddos. And then I had to take all of that stuff up to the third floor in the building, and no, there’s no elevator. I share the building with others. I unloaded the vehicle and then made six trips up and down the stairs. People on the second floor watched me complete the task. One lady sang, “Santa Claus is coming to town!” Really? Can you not see that I have a bajillion things to carry up? Maybe a little help? Oh well.
Type 3 – Asshole.
An ex emailed me the other day asking how I was doing. And then he said, “I regret everything in the past. Just to let you know. You are the kinkiest girl I’ve ever been with.” Of all the things he gleaned from our relationship, me being his kinkiest partner is what stands out in his mind… Not the hours I spent driving to/from his place (this was an LDR) or meals I cooked or the cleaning I did or anything else? And why do you regret everything? Is it because I was the kinkiest or because you finally fucking realized that cheating is wrong? Whatever.
Type 4 – Empathic.
Yesterday I had a team meeting regarding one of my foster kids. Bio mom was explaining her own childhood. As she cried she described why she had been removed from her parents when she was only 5 years old and how she bounced around from foster home to foster home, never feeling that anyone loved her. And then she said that she will do anything to make sure that doesn’t happen to her own daughter. As foster mom and I were leaving, foster mom cried about how bio mom’s foster parents were supposed to love her like their own child. My chest did it’s normal heaving thing when I’m trying to not cry and my eyes welled up with tears. Though I wasn’t in foster care and my foster mom wasn’t a foster child, we can both understand pain and suffering. The suffering bio mom went through gives me and the team a better understanding of what has gone wrong and how we can help her make the necessary changes. I’m going to be bio mom’s cheerleader and do everything in my power to help her realize her potential to be a great mom.