Be a Compliment to Your Parents

I blogged yesterday about the neighbor across the street, and that I was going to make Mac & Cheese for the family. Well, I did. I didn't want, expect or need anything for it. I did it because it's what I felt I should do.

Today, I went shopping (more about that in a bit). When I got home, and after the girls got off the bus, I was sitting here at my computer catching up on some emails. Not long after the girls came in, the doorbell rang. When I answered it, it was the wife of the gentleman that had passed, and their older son.

As I opened the door, I was met with, not a just a smile, but a warm hug and words of thanks and appreciation. As we introduced ourselves (because, remember, aside from waving across the street and saying "good morning" as we passed one another, we were strangers), they continued to thank me. I was awed by their strength, their acceptance of what had happened, and their grace.

Their coming over made me feel so good, not because I need or wanted recognition, but because it opened a door, a dialogue. In some ways, this has made us more neighbors than we were previously. I won't deny that it made me feel good to know that they appreciated the thought, but that wasn't the most important thing. The important thing was that, in a moment when their world is upside down, they were given comfort.

When you do something like this, too, for someone you don't really know, you aren't always sure that it will be met with the intentions you had in doing it. Some people don't want anyone to interfere into their lives, don't want to open themselves up to sharing their grief or pain. It's not always easy to accept help, of any sort, with grace. Believe me, this is something I know all too well.

And yet, the compliments I received, I don't see them as compliments to me, as much as I see them as compliments to my parents. What I did, I did because it's how I was raised. I was raised to be caring and compassionate, to provide when I can, to do everything in my power to help ease suffering. Sometimes I don't do the things I feel I should because there's too much risk to it - picking up a hitchhiker, offering shelter to a stranger - and I always feel guilty. But I do what I can, and I try to make my parents proud.

I do these things, too, to teach my daughters the lessons I was taught. I strive to instill in them a sense of goodwill and responsibility towards those that need us, for whatever reason. I hope that, when they're grown and on their own, that I get a call someday saying, "Mom, you got the nicest compliment today...."