A kind co-worker checked in on me recently, knowing about my
recent diagnosis of cancer, and I told her that I was really overwhelmed by how
kind people were being to me. “Well,” she said, “remember George
Bailey.”
Hmph! I am not
George Bailey.
I am not a nice
person. I am sometimes kind, but wise also, like the offspring of a bunny rabbit
and a cobra.
I want to be good to people, but not necessarily to
everyone, and not necessarily all the time. And I have a vicious tendency to be
nasty to people who are nasty to me.
George
Bailey (aka Jimmy
Stewart, the big sap in “It’s a Wonderful
Life”) went through his life unaware that he was just acting perfectly toward people – kind,
generous, etc., etc.
I have no such illusions.
I am often unkind. I am sometimes mean. I have done
unforgivable things (meaning that I have done things to people who are dead and
who can’t possibly forgive me for them). I’ve been unpleasant and angry. I’ve
been rude (probably on a weekly basis).
Repeat: I am not
George Bailey.
If I live through this thing, I think it means that Frank Capra didn’t know
everything after all.
(And, in case you can’t tell, I can’t stand that stupid movie. Life is just more complicated than that.)
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