I went with a floppy Bow Tie o’ the Day this afternoon, and I donned my “HATE HAS NO HOME HERE” Face Mask o’ the Day for my trip to the store. I was inspired to wear this mask because I keep thinking of my visit with Mom last week. Mom is bigly into kindness and compassion. Mom thinks people should be nice. At large family dinners, Mom took charge and said a few words before the prayer. She always found a way to incorporate the message that we should always be nice to each other and to others. Even with family, being nice is sometimes a difficult way to behave, but it’s still the right thing to do.
As Mom and I were sitting on her bed last week, she brought up kindness yet again. As we were chatting about various kindnesses that had been performed on behalf of our selves, I remembered my new word tattoos—”empathy” and “kindness”—which happened to be covered by my long-sleeved shirt. As I rolled up my shirtsleeves, I said “Mom, I know you don’t like tattoos, but you have to see my new ones. I think you’ll sort of appreciate them.” She said, “I don’t mind your tattoos. You can have whatever you want on you, and people can mind their own business if they don’t like it.” After I rolled up my shirtsleeves, Mom read each of the two words out loud. She was pleased. She even touched the words with her fingertips and told me whoever tattooed me had done a very good job.
Let me be clear: Mom is not a fan of tattoos on anyone, but she is too nice to say so. She’s not about to take a chance of making someone feel ashamed of themselves and their tattoos, just because tats are not her thing. She’s certainly not about to judge someone about something as surface-y as their skin getting inked. In fact, Mom pointed at my “empathy” and “kindness” tats and expressed a familiar sentiment. She said, “We’ll be judged on those words.” I can’t disagree with that.
And on we talked about the niceties of being nice.