Sometimes I can't help but feel that nice people, and I mean genuinely nice people, are a thing of the past. The world we live in today seems to be full of people who are too consumed in their own lives to realize that there are in fact other people in this world living among them. People don't know their own neighbors anymore and ma and pa shops are very quickly becoming a thing of the past. When I was a child, we played outside all day. Left in the morning, played in the fields (which are also becoming a thing of the past) all day and came home at dusk. Today, you can't let your kids out of your sight for ten minutes without some pervert taking off with them. Sometimes I get so down on people and the society we live in. Maybe I was just born in the wrong era. And then you meet someone. Someone who is genuinely nice. Someone who at the time may be facing one of the most difficult challenges one could face and they're happy. Happy to be alive. Why sometimes does it seem to take a tragedy in ones life to make them see the big picture, to be grateful to be a alive. I am no exception. I so often find myself consumed in my own life, and then I have to stop and ask myself "what is really important to me". Why is it so difficult at times to not take life for granted?
This last week I have found myself feeling so down on people, so burnt out from work. And then today, one of my favorite old patients stopped by with flowers just to say hi. Thanks Ray for brightening my day and helping me (as one of my friends always says to her child) "change the attitude".