Tag: commentary

Before…

~ gannebassett ~ 1 Comment

“Before you assume, learn the facts. Before you criticize, understand why. Before you hurt someone, feel…”(paraphrase, Kalifa)

When I read this quote it really resonated with me.  Too often people make assumptions without knowing the facts.  From these assumptions, they build stories that become the foundation of their perceived truths.  They criticize and build walls of defense against an illusion, sometimes entering a battle to protect and right a wrong, starting a fruitless war that in the end causes pain for everyone involved.

Recently, I’ve seen someone slowly alienated and closed out from his group of friends.  An assumption was made, without any background information or questioning, and what began as lighthearted teasing, grew into bitterness and resentment.  He’s been falsley labeled, and the trust between friends has disintegrated.  He knows they are missing important information, facts that totally reframe the situation, and yet he cannot and will not share them because that would require sharing information that is not his to share.  His only way back into the fold is to betray a friend, to tell a confidence. So he has remained silent and alone; an unseen hero.

I’ve also been the brunt of such judgement and faulty perception.  The attacks are as shocking as unmerited.  I wonder what would change if they took the time to know the truth?  Would they still expect the same things if they understood it was unethical?  Do they place more emphasis on emotion than morality, on friendship above honor?  Does a lack of information justify lack of character?

Knowing people react from a place of ignorance does not ease the sting of judgment and hypocrisy. It’s difficult to recover from the pain; the damage is multi-layered and scarring.

I learned at an early age not to react in a moment of pain or passion.  Knee jerk reactions are rarely productive; words spoken without thought and examination more often than not bear rotten fruit.  That’s frustrating for some people; they want to argue it out, to prove they’re right.  I’d rather step away from the emotions and rest in the peace of truth.  After all, you can find peace with a painful truth, but can only shadow-box a delusion.

For now, I’m going to leave the stones on the ground and strive to love.

 

A Day of Results

~ gannebassett ~ 1 Comment

It’s an infection.

Those words should bring relief. 

There’s an anomaly in the culture.

The blood drains from my face.

I am not afraid of cancer.  It doesn’t run in my family.  I don’t smoke.  I eat better than most Americans and exercise regularly.  The standard indicators and markers don’t loom over me, threatening to initiate an attack at any moment.

You’re going to be okay.

That’s what they told my mother. 

I watched as an infection slowly destroyed her.  It would only reveal itself after extensive damage had been done.  They would clear it from her system, tell her she’d be fine, and then it would appear again in another part of her body, decimating yet another organ. It was an unrelenting enemy, hiding in the cellular trenches, camouflaged by the medications meant to destroy it.  The infection was a black ops batallion, landing, destroying, conquering. 

My mother is dead.  Infections scare me.

I feel numb, and alone.  There’s only a few people I would talk to about this.  I can’t reach out to them.

The Hospitality House calls. There’s a guest who needs to check-in.  It’s work.  A distraction.

He’s from Chicago.  He has salt and pepper hair, kind eyes…and cancer.  As I show him around the house, we talk of history, architecture and design elements.  He stands aside and watches as three other guests excitedly surround me.  They tell me they want to cook me dinner, or rather dinner for the house.  They want to prove they can cook too.  Mostly, they just want to thank me for making them laugh so much the night before. I know they just want to feel normal again.  When you’re facing sickness and loss, being viewed as more than the the tragedy becomes the greatest gift you can receive.

Tonight we’re having soul food.

He explains he has an appointment at 3 pm followed by a seminar his doctor is conducting.  He won’t be back for dinner.  I wish him luck.  He’ll be at the Hospitality House for several weeks.  I tell him to consider it his home away from home.

We have several people check-in.  The house will be close to capacity tonight.  It’s good. I’m busy.

A friend pays a surprise visit. We laugh and joke. I don’t want to break the mood. I don’t want to step outside of this strange and fragile bubble. I don’t want to think about it.

As dinner is called, one of the chefs pull me aside.

“You didn’t tell me we’d be cooking for white people.”

“What?”

“White people won’t like our soul food.”

I couldn’t stop the grin.  “Am I not white?”

He looked puzzled and then laughed. 

“No,” he said.  “You’re family.”

As we all gathered around the table, eating barbeque, corn bread, chili, sweet potato souffle & peas, it felt like a family reunion.

Laughter is healing.

I am going over the books with my co-worker.  My shift is ending; I’ll be off for a few days.

He steps through the door and introduces himself to my partner.  He carries himself with the dignity of a king and the gentleness of a nurturing spirit.

He hands me a rose.

I haven’t had a man give me flowers since I was in France trying to break the bonds of confused American modesty to embrace French freedom.  A topless me deserved a bouquet.  I’m not sure why I deserve this beautiful flower tonight. 

image

“For me?”

“Yes,” he smiled and added.  “There’s more to come.”

Men facing death are not too intimidated to show their interest.  It’s a double-edged sword. 

We talked about his appointment and his treatment plan.

I told him about my test results…and my mother.

“It’s just an infection,” I finally said.

He takes my hand.

“Yeah,” he murmurs and looks into the distance.  “It’s just cancer.”

I understand.

Shame

~ gannebassett ~ Leave a comment

I volunteer at a local Hospitality House, a non-profit organization dedicated to providing a “home away from home” to outpatients and caregivers of patients at surrounding hospitals.  One of our guests is the wife of a quadruple bipass heart patient, a federal employee who is only one day out of surgery.  Today they were informed his medical leave was now considered “furlough” as a result of the government shut down.

She spent hours on the phone trying to ascertain when benefits would actually be cut off and how to pay his insurance premium out of her own pocket since without insurance, they would be facing a hospital bill nearing a quarter of a million dollars.  He spent time stressed over the future instead of focused on his recovery.

The local congressman must have found the shut down an opportunity to gain footing with his constituents because he sent out an email exclaiming “look what’s happened.”  She quickly fired off an email stating “we don’t have to see it, we FEEL it and you ALL should be ashamed!”

And they should!  Sadly, The real shame is that our “representatives” have no shame or they would be working harder to ensure the weak and wounded aren’t left out in the cold during a government shutdown that still somehow manages to pad their pockets. But hey, they reopened the national parks…clearly there are priorities.