I listen to a Christian radio station, and this morning they asked people to call in and talk about someone being kind to them. I didn’t call in, but for some reason, I thought of a time when I was a teenager.
My dad only had a handful of cousins who we knew, but one was named Elfina, Elfie for short, and another was named Betty. My mom loved and was loved by my dad’s family. Betty was a single, aging woman with health issues. We lived the closest to her, so we were called upon to visit her in the hospital, take her to doctor’s appointments, and bring in some groceries from time to time. This would not have been a problem except Betty complained about everything. Nothing anyone did was ever good enough, and she did nothing but feel sorry for herself.
While Betty was having her health issues, one of my mom’s sisters who lived out of state was losing a battle with cancer. My mom went to visit and help as much as she could.
While Betty was having her health issues and my aunt was slowly dying, Elfie’s husband passed away unexpectedly. Amadeo was a happy, funny, Italian man who loved life. Shortly after his passing, Elfie called our house.
My mom was with my aunt, so I took the call. I told Elfie how sad we all were about losing such a wonderful man. She thanked me but went on to say she really called to see how my aunt was doing. I gave her the latest update, and we said our goodbyes, but I was blown away.
I couldn’t believe that in her grief, she thought of us; and angsty teenager that I was, I couldn’t get over the difference between attitudes. With all my mom did for Betty, she never asked about my aunt; but Elfie, still reeling from her own loss, thought of us. They are all gone now, and as I age, I understand Betty more and more. She was used to being a strong, independent woman. Getting so sick must have made her feel overwhelmingly alone and scared. Complaining was a natural thing to do in those circumstances. I still appreciate Elfie’s kindness, though. It was a lesson to me. I try to be an Elfie, not a Betty.