I took Y to get her first Pfizer dose today and the lady who administered the vaccine was so kind. She patiently explained everything about the vaccine and its side effects to Y, including me in the conversation (unlike most docs and nurses in this country who insist on talking only to the child!). She answered my questions about scheduling the second dose. She also cleverly asked Y a question about what she (Y) was going to do once she went back home, and while Y was thinking about it, deftly jabbed her arm!
She must have seen so many people today. I know she was just doing her job; but nowadays, I am moved by any small display of consideration and kindness. Someone holding a door open for us, or smiling under a mask, or moving aside on the trail to make way for me as I race past huffing and puffing; the tiny courtesies that are so much a part of pre-pandemic life feel novel and unfamiliar. Like a precious gift, forgotten in a dusty corner that I have serendipitously discovered now.
We just got an email from Y's school principal that an ex-teacher had passed away. Turns out she is the mom of Y's classmate and succumbed to breast cancer. She leaves behind two young kids. Another random act of kindness - this classmate's dad had met Y one afternoon, several months ago, when she had gone out for a run and got lost. He met Y on the road and she asked him for directions and he walked her home. As they walked, he asked her where she studied and informed her that his son was in the same class as Y. I was very grateful to him that day. That tenuous connection makes me feel doubly sad for him, his 2 kids, and his family now. How do people deal with losses of such magnitude? Those kids' entire lives will now be coloured by the loss of their mom at a tender age.
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