Saturday crowds at work are a grab bag sort. We have regulars, but most of the people we just don't remember because we see so many that day. But every now and again, people stick out.
No one out of the ordinary. A middle age mom with her two kids, who were probably around 5 and 3. Also with her was her elderly father, and he was being led into the department on the tightly held hand of his little granddaughter. The mom guided her dad to a chair and told him to sit there for a while while she and the kids looked for books. Which he did, he looked at few things the kids brought over to him, but he sat there with the same content but glazed confused look that my father has most of the time.
And it broke my heart, right there at work as I sorted. It just struck too close to home as I watched the old man smile without recognition. And I fiercely thought to myself, the only thing I want is for people to be nice to my dad. To not ignore him and be kind to another human being.
And then 2 days later, my impatience, frustration and anger got the better of me and I yelled at my dad for eating all the Christmas cookies in the house. Yelling doesn't help anything. Of all the places in the world, home, should be the one place that people are nice to him. Here I am asking the world to be nice to my dad, and I couldn't do it myself. And I hung my head in shame when I realized this.
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