After finding out that my dog was put to sleep late last night, I went to get a haircut.
As I was sitting in the chair, the woman--who had never cut my hair before--said to me:
"Are you okay, honey?"
You know when people ask you that at exactly the appropriate (or inappropriate, depending on how you look at it) time and you just lose it.
Yeah, I lost it.
I got all teary-eyed, and somehow managed to sputter out that my dog had passed away.
The woman put her hands on my shoulders, took a deep breath, prompting me to take one, and said--
"Well, if you're that upset about it, that means your dog had a wonderful life."
It's true, isn't it?
Sometimes the measure of our grief is actually the amount of joy the person or pet we're grieving for enjoyed on this Earth.
It made me feel better, not just that someone pointed that out, but that someone took the time to be kind to a guy who probably just seemed crazy.
I'll think of that the next time I find it hard to be nice.
"Every human being is an opportunity for kindness."
The mantra works.
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