31. Kindness

Today I received a brief email enquiring after my health and progress and wishing me a speedy recovery. It was from someone who, to all intents and purposes, is a complete stranger - Phil runs a writing competition on Retreat West’s website and I’ve won a few times, by public vote. I’d won the last competition and had to explain that I wouldn’t be able to take up the prize for several months. In fact, I haven’t used the previous prize either - it coincided with my diagnosis. I haven’t been able to keep up with my flash fiction writing, love it though I do.

https://www.retreatwest.co.uk/photo-flash-challenge-4-finalists-announced/

I am so touched that he and his colleague remembered, let alone cared enough to follow up a month later. The kindness of strangers!

My cousin Tracy, whom I haven’t seen for many, many years, frequently sends me a card or a postcard out of the blue or a private message on Facebook, just checking in, making sure I know I’m not forgotten. I remember Mum saying she regularly got cards from Tracy which always cheered her up. My neighbour Lisa, despite dealing with a recent bereavement and fighting all sorts of battles herself, just checks in to see if we need anything doing. I was moaning about some of the horrid side effects of chemotherapy and Trina, bless her, arranged for next-day delivery of things she’d researched like flavour-free toothpaste (wonderful), mouth spray and pure virgin coconut oil. There are such lovely, kind people out there.

Den goes up to the newsagent’s early every morning. It started as a ploy on my part to get him out of the house and into the fresh air - and I do like my daily i. He exchanged good mornings with a woman with the same routine and they’d occasionally chat about the proposed development of the village and its impact on us (not good). One day she asked if we were making any progress finding a new house and he found himself telling her it was on hold because of my ‘illness.’ Now he must have been pretty desperate to confide in anyone, let alone a stranger. Since then, he gets regular enquiries from her and the newsagent staff about me and my progress - yet they wouldn’t know me from Adam (though I suspect right now they might recognise me by the hair, or lack thereof).

I was told by my art teacher, Miss Martin, when I was 11 that I was cynical. I didn’t know what it meant but I knew it wasn’t a compliment. She was right. But I’m healthily cynical and I see nothing wrong with that as, over the years, it’s become balanced by an open mind, the wish to see all sides of the picture (blame History for that) and, above all, the empathy I developed as a teacher. But I don’t expect to see the best in people and am taken aback when it comes my way.

So...a big thank you to all those friends, neighbours, acquaintances and strangers for caring. I’m touched.