May we all choose to look at the world with such open and loving hearts so we too can be surrounded by kindness.
A big, tough-looking man wearing a tank top and baseball cap took hold of the door at the Circle K that my shorter-than-he-ever-used-to-be husband was trying to push open.
The man stood aside, gesturing with a chin up nod that my husband should go on through.
That night I was sitting on the edge of the bed in our bedroom, when my husband came in. I could tell from the expression on his face that something was wrong.
“The hardest thing about this Parkinson’s thing is the pity,” he said.
“The pity people give me. I see it in their eyes. When somebody helps me with a door they have that look—the look of pity.”
I had never seen pity in people’s eyes and told him that I thought maybe he was misunderstanding things.
Having always been a healthy, capable man—he’d never been in a position in…
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