Do The Right Thing

Do the right thing.

We hear it almost every day, and I love the reminder. Do I always do the right thing? No. I will admit it…straight up. I don’t.

And neither do you.

Today, I was browsing through Facebook, and on a friend’s post, someone wrote, “You always do the right thing.” Now, don’t get me wrong. This friend of mine does the right thing almost all the time. She is a wonderful person with a giving heart, no doubt. However, she posted recently that a woman on the beach had told her she was beachcombing incorrectly and accused her of being rude. This woman told her you should never start beachcombing in front of another beachcomber. What? I had never heard that, and neither had my friend, but the woman clearly thought my friend was doing the wrong thing. Sometimes, the right/wrong thing is in the eye of the beholder.

Many times, I’m behind cars who are cruising in the left lane of a highway. I think they are rude and choosing to do the wrong thing, but they probably have no idea the left lane is for passing. 

No one always does the right thing, and that’s partly due to the fact that, as humans, we are inherently flawed. Does it mean we always do the wrong thing? No, but sometimes we do the wrong thing. As I’ve gotten older, one thing I’ve learned is that it is impossible to always do the right thing. It is possible to try, but no matter what, “you can please some of the people all of the time, you can please all of the people some of the time, but you can’t please all of the people all of the time.” (John Lydgate) Sometimes, making one person happy makes another person sad. Maybe two friends want to make plans with you for the same day. One is going to be, at best, disappointed when you can’t get together…or maybe furious…depending on the person.

And sometimes, we do the wrong thing without even realizing it. Maybe your in-laws feel slighted because you spend more time with your family than with them…they think you are doing the wrong thing. Maybe you don’t know the left lane is for passing. Perhaps you think it’s OK to beachcomb in front of another beachcomber…or maybe you’re the person who is rudely explains the “rules” to the other beachcomber. Maybe you sign up to be on a committee but forget the meetings or always find you have something “more important” on the calendar when the meeting rolls around. Maybe you forget to meet a friend or family member somewhere. Perhaps you exclude someone you should have included. Maybe you were quick to anger. Maybe you didn’t attend a friend’s 50th birthday party. Maybe you got caught up in a conversation you should have walked away from. Maybe you didn’t defend your friend when someone was talking about her. Maybe you tried to do the right thing and it went awry. Maybe a wrong was perceived by someone that you didn’t perceive as a wrong. Maybe you found yourself in a situation and just didn’t know how to handle it, so you didn’t handle it at all.

There are so many ways to do the wrong thing…intentionally or unintentionally. Life is complicated. And remember…everyone has different sensitivity levels, making it even more difficult to know what’s right and what’s wrong. If someone tells me I shouldn’t comb the beach in front of another beachcomber, I’m thinking that person is completely and utterly nuts, but she’s thinking I’m rude. If someone calls me at the last minute to cancel lunch plans, I don’t freak out…I’m a low-maintenance friend; but to some folks, that’s a big deal.

But do most folks try to do the right thing? Yes, I like to believe so. I try to do the right thing, and often, I fail. That’s life. The only people who don’t make mistakes are the ones who don’t do anything.

Here’s the thing: Sometimes you’re the windshield, and sometimes you’re the bug. That’s a funny way of saying sometimes we are the offender, and sometimes we are the “victim.” Personally, I don’t like to be either one.

You’ve likely heard this: People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones. And you know what? We all live in glass houses. As much as someone might like to think they’re perfect, they’re not.

Everyone makes mistakes, and no one always does the right thing. I’m usually quick to warn folks I am going to anger them at some point…I will likely say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing. People get mad, and when I’ve done something wrong, I totally understand why someone gets mad about it. But sometimes, our perceptions are different…maybe you think I did the wrong thing, but I disagree. That’s life too.

Over lunch with my friend, Jennifer, we discussed this recently. We acknowledged that everyone is flawed. But you know what we decided? We decided real friends know our flaws and love us anyway.

Try to do the right thing.

 

 

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Poking The Bear

animal animal photography bear big

Photo by Photo Collections on Pexels.com

My husband and I were talking last night about the losses we have had to endure since we were married. He lost his beloved grandmother in 2005. I lost my dad in 2006, and then I lost my mother in December 2017. We were devastated over every single loss, and honestly, it sticks with us. I don’t walk around in a state of sadness. I’m generally pretty happy, but occasionally, the sadness will break through, but I never know when that will be. And the interesting thing is that sometimes, the grief doesn’t manifest itself as sadness. It manifests itself as forgetfulness, indifference, or anger.

The forgetful part of grief just can’t be explained. I don’t know if my brain went into pure survival mode after each loss, but in the first six to eight months after each loss, I couldn’t remember anything, and I’m known for having a good memory. With the loss of my mother in December 2017, it seems to have lasted longer. It has been 16 months (to the day) since she died, and I’m still having trouble with my memory. Obviously, I loved my mother, but I think the loss of a second parent is more difficult, even in my 50s, simply because I know I don’t have a parent anymore. It does a number on the brain. My brain seems to have channeled all its energy into survival mode, and a lot has fallen by the wayside, including my memory. In fact, I’m hoping my memory is in recovery mode now, but if I forgot something that was important to you…I’m sorry. I’ve even forgotten things that were important to me.

Indifference comes into play when I hear someone complain about something that I think is not a big deal in comparison to losing a loved one. Indifference comes into play when I think someone is making a mountain out of a molehill…and I tend to think that a lot. During the past week, my bank account was hacked, and I had to set up a new checking account. Ugh. Also, during the past week, an angry driver, who mistakenly thought he had the right of way in the Target parking lot, clipped my car. It was annoying. I know people who would have cried and would still be crying about both events, but I have the perspective of grief. I know those things aren’t small problems, but they aren’t as big as losing a loved one. Seriously, grief changes your perspective. A grieving person might even be indifferent about something that is important to you. Planning a party? The grieving person might not care about coming to your party. Don’t be offended.

Anger is a whole different beast. I’m not really into astrology, but anyone who knows I’m a Gemini would say I’m a true Gemini. I’m happy-go-lucky most of the time, and I truly want to be happy-go-lucky all of the time, but if I’m cornered or pushed too far…not so happy-go-lucky. In grief, the “not so happy-go-lucky” part is more easily triggered. It’s not something I’m proud of. It’s not something I want to continue, and I work really hard to keep it in check, but I think, in grief, we tend to wear our hearts on our sleeves. Well, maybe I shouldn’t generalize. Maybe I should say, “In grief, I wear my heart on my sleeve.” I’ve never been one to “get my feelings hurt,” and I’m still not. In grief, I don’t “get my feelings hurt,” but I do find I’m more quickly angered. That doesn’t mean I’m always angry. It means I don’t want anyone to poke the bear.

The one emotion everyone expects from grieving people is sadness. And yes, I’ve had profound sadness. For a month after Mother died, I went to bed. I barely functioned. I’ve written about it before. I gave myself permission to stay in bed for that month…crying whenever I needed to. After that, I forced myself to get up and get moving, but that doesn’t mean the sadness didn’t creep through every now and then…it still does. In fact, on the 30th of every month, I find myself calculating how long Mother has been gone…just as I did for years after Daddy died. Now I don’t have any parents. I don’t have a mother or daddy I can call for advice. Fortunately, I have some trusted family members, but they’re still not my mother or daddy.

So here’s what I’m telling you. A grieving person might be wearing their emotions on their sleeves for a long time. We all grieve differently, but don’t be surprised if your grieving friend is emotional for longer than you expect. Don’t be surprised if you don’t get the reactions you expect. Don’t be surprised if they forget things…even important things. Don’t be surprised if they are quick to anger.

In fact, I think of the grieving person as a bear. A bear lives in survival mode, except for the hibernation period, which was also part of grief for me. If there is something you wouldn’t do to a bear…annoy it, anger it, corner it…then don’t do that to your grieving friend. Look at the claws on the bear in the picture above…that’s what grief can bring out.

Simply put…don’t poke the bear.

***Please note: if you are grieving and having difficulty returning to regular life activities, please seek professional help. ***

 

 

 

 

 

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