A few thoughts

Our world needs more kindness. Is it a natural trait for humans to be mean and spiteful or hateful and jealous?

Is it a natural trait for humans to ignore the softer side and sometimes be aggressive and cruel?

What has Mother Nature taught us? I see coyotes chase down young deer or perhaps a small dog. We think they are cruel and awful. They are only doing was comes natural for them to survive.

We are supposed to be civilized folk right? We are supposed to be of a higher order. Ahhh, but perhaps we just think we are.

Where am I going with this? 

Saturdays and Wednesdays are what is called Dump Days. We can go to our town hall and deposit our bags of trash and do our recycling. 

Since our new neighbors got rid of that ugly dumpster, I've had to go back to doing the weekly run to the town hall. Actually, I am glad the dumpster is gone. IT was SO unsightly even if it was very handy.

There is a gentleman who now oversees the recycle bins. His name is Stan. I only know this because someone called out his name when I was there. 

I took my time with my bin of recyclables and then needed to purchase some Town Trash bags.

I noticed that many of the other folks that stopped by never bothered to say hello and pretty much just did what city--transplant to country folks would do. Looked down their noses at Stan. He was the Dump Dude and nothing more.

I asked Stan how he was doing. Everyone had left and it was just the two of us on a nice Wednesday morning. 

"Ahhh," he answered quietly, "I'm..." he made a face "I'm okay. You know, I'm here."

I waited because sometimes if you don't interrupt and pay attention, the other person may continue.

"You know," he added, leaning on a dumpster, "my wife passed on in April..." He sighed, then added, "She was sick all winter and when she passed my daughter insisted I come back to the township and do this work again. She knew if I didn't, I'd just be sitting at home staring at the walls. So here I am. I'm not sure..." his voice dropped off and he shrugged.

I saw sadness in him, in how he moved and how he glanced at something above and behind me. I'm sure he was thinking about his wife.

"I'm very glad that you are here, Stan," I said. "I enjoy seeing you each week."

"Well," he answered, "I guess." His hands fluttered a bit and he rearranged some plastic bottles. "Maybe that is a good thing." He stopped and then leaned up against the bin.

"You see, I'm going to be 74 pretty soon, and I am retired. I took care of my wife while she was so sick and now?" He shrugged again. 

I waited.

"Some days it is hard to get up and get going, you know? But this job on Wednesdays and Saturdays is something. Not much. But I get out because I have to."

So even if I don't need to go each week, I go see Stan so he can chat with me. 

Last week Stan saved out a couple of nice little storage crates and asked if I could use them. What a nice gesture and yes, I could use them.

I don't tell Stan that I too am a Caregiver, he doesn't need to know my story or frustrations. He all too well knows how that goes.

What he needs is a kind ear.

And it seems he looks forward to chatting for a bit each week. Some of his days are better than others. I can tell, when he jokes about me driving over with just a little bit of stuff, I smile and tell him that ... hey, I just needed to get out!

Maybe I'm just a softy...my husband says I'm soft in the head.

I think thoughtful kindness goes a long way. You never know what others are going through.