The Art of Being Kind

My Mom’s brother died yesterday. She lost two brothers previously. One was injured in a car accident as a youth and, with a broken back, went on to live a productive life from his wheelchair. The other died at age 17 when he fell from a barn and broke his neck. She also lost two sisters ~ one from cancer who died in her 70’s. The other who, after surviving the death of two children and her husband, went on to live a productive and independent life ~ with a great sense of humour ~ even after a sudden onset of blindness in her 70’s, died at age 93 in the arms of hospice.

My Mom is 88 years old and the epitome of health and positive attitude. She has survived all those losses, as well as the passing of her husband of 62 years. How does one do that and still remain positive?? She is my role model and my hero. When I spoke with her and she shared the news of Uncle Art’s passing, I remarked, “Wow… It’s you and Myrt now (her only remaining sibling); hang on to each other!”

I get so caught up in my own little life and all that I have going on… when something like this comes into it I have to give pause. Pause for where I came from. Pause for what good people I grew up amongst. No, they weren’t talkative folks. Nor were they affectionate folks. No, they didn’t cure cancer. They were hard working, god fearing, good people. If sociologists were to look at my life they would say I came from “good stock.”

That came home to me so strongly tonight when my Mom called me to let me know about Uncle Art’s death. She never calls me; I call her. Mom grew up in the Great Depression. Phone calls are a luxury. She was the original recycler. She could teach the so-called “Green People” a thing or two. She knows everything about how to conserve, recycle and make the most of what you’ve got. So ~ making a long distance call is a luxury; not how we look at it today.

So when Mom calls I know someone has died. Seriously. But when she called tonight to tell me of Uncle Art’s passing, it wasn’t her usual 5 minute conversation. We talked for 20 minutes. I knew she needed to talk and she knew she did, too.

And it brought it all home to me. What is important in life. Yes, we just put an offer on a house. Yes, we just put ours on the market and we have a thousand things to do. Yes the kids are getting married in a few months and excitement and anticipation abounds.

But a life of a good and decent and sweet and honorable man has passed. And that needs to be recognized. It’s not always about me.

Here’s to you, Uncle Art ~ I will remember you always as the gentle, smiling, reverent, sweet person that you were. You were so much like my Grandpa John, your Dad ~ a quiet soul who brought so much beauty into this world. I can’t pass a marigold without thinking of Grandpa John…

Kind is a word one doesn’t hear much anymore, let alone being put into practice. It just doesn’t come up in conversation. Kindness may be a lost “art.” But that it is how I will remember you, Uncle Art ~ as a kind and gentle soul. God bless you.