Kindness Counts.

Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle. 


Now more than ever before, I've begun to understand how important it is to be as kind as you can to everyone you meet...

You never know if that's the day they found out their mother has Stage III cancer.
Or the day their father got laid off after 24 years at the same company.
Or the day they should have been in their classroom, welcoming back their students from Winter Break; instead they have dropped everything to move home.
Or the day they are moving away from the life they've built over the past 2 1/2 years.
Or the day before they take a loved one for a round of chemotherapy; to sit and watch for 3 hours as chemicals so harsh they would burn through the laminate floors are pumped into her veins.
Or the day they watched that loved one stay in bed for an entire day, exhausted from fighting a battle with her own body's cells.
Or the day they first saw their loved one completely bald, when usually she has a head full of thick, strawberry blond hair.
Or the day they watch their mother cry because everything tastes like dirt and she is always tired.

...You just never know. Maybe they are getting ready for this:

Another afternoon of chemo.

All I know is that when someone who gives an extra smile or genuine "hello" when I am out and about now, I feel it's warmth more than I ever have before. When you and your family are fighting this kind of battle, every sweetness is an incredible encouragement. So many of our daily tasks are overwhelming and exhausting. 

If I am going through this, who knows what others are facing daily! Even problems I might consider "easy" to bear at this point in my life can be huge obstacles for other people. I feel compelled to be more aware of others and trying to affect them in a positive way -- no matter how our lives intersect -- because I know how much I am impacted by the kindness of others right now. Especially the kind texts, notes, and chats from my friends. 

Be kind. We never know. 

Blessing #117: Chemo Girls (and Guys)

Every 21 days, my two aunts, my dad, and I escort my mom to chemotherapy. We set up our chairs, bring out her cozy "chemo-blanket," chat with the nurses, and settle in for the next 3 hours. Now that I'm home, Chemo Girls has expanded to include my brother and nephew, whom we bring into the room via Skype. We tease my mom as the "loopy" pills kick in and her eyelids begin to flutter. My dad makes his trip to get us all coffee. We chat and laugh and read magazines. I see many people there by themselves, and I feel so blessed... that we have a group there to support my mom. 

♥