I Love People


Dear God, help me remember I love people, even when they are Elvis impersonators. Amen.

My daughters will tell you the title is false, because whenever I’m driving and I run into a smackload of stupid, I don’t get road rage; I sigh and say I hate people.  But no, really, I do love people.

I love the people I came into contact with yesterday.  My friend Karen and I met for lunch at Panera (Yes, I had salad.  And unsweetened iced tea.)  (Alright, and a half of a cookie.  Shut up.) and it was so great to be with somebody who gets me.  We have a good sense of snark together, we’re pretty compatible on the smarts level, yet so different in other stuff that I’m never bored speaking to her.  She’s also a great vehicle for getting out of myself and also for remembering that I’m not the scum of the earth.  

I also saw my doctor yesterday.  She is such an awesome doctor because she does not lay down any lines of BS to make herself that Doctor-God combination that really irks me.  She is human and willingly admits if she got something wrong or just doesn’t know the answer yet, and follows up with phone calls home.  She has made my life better in so many ways, and I’m lucky to have her in my life.  My dad was, too.  When he moved in with us and had his first appointment with her, he was shocked when she called at home to see how he was doing and if he had been comfortable at the appointment and if there were any questions he had forgotten to ask.  He shook his head over it all night, totally impressed.  My dad didn’t impress easily.

I also saw my knitting store gals.  Lisa owns the yarn shop and has never not made me laugh.  She has that profound gift of asking questions about you because she’s interested, not just curious and then she remembers what you tell her.  Dude.  That’s like the hardest thing for me to do sometimes, and she sees how many customers?  I often blurt out the “oh, right, yes, now I remember you telling me.  He’s in Sweden, right?  Connecticut!  I knew it was something like that!”  Yeah, go me.

Jesh was there, too, and besides having a cool name, she is a really cool 20-something who has the tenderness and compassion of a much older woman.  She is funny and talented beyond belief, and is getting married next year and has already knit her wedding shawl.  I’m taking bets on if she’ll break down and knit the flowers.

People have a way of taking me outside of myself, yet at the same time centering me and finding the good inside myself when I’m feeling a wee bit useless.  (You know, the whole leaving my chosen profession thing.)  There is something about a smile that reaches all the way up to people’s eyebrows that melts my heart and makes me feel glad I got the chance to encounter them.

Then I drove home and I hated people again.  Maybe I should amend that to say I hate people driving cars.  

But that’s a story for another day.  Hah!  Keeping you hanging, that’s my evil plan.  


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