P(r)ettyposting 💖🎀🍉
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So, I would like to add a personal and way too long anecdote to that post.
When I was in my early twenties, I went for a short trip abroad with a friend. During the trip, my grandma passed away suddenly. Now, I didn't have the best relationship with that grandma, far from it. She was the first person that actually made me understand what neglect was, she was a vile person towards me.
Still, her dying opened up in me a wound, the pain, the guilt of not feeling the right amount pain, the knowledge that things with her could never be fixed. Well, painful.
The friend that I was with arranged it that I wouldn't have to find out before coming back to Italy but I accidentally found out anyway just before we had to say bye to go to different airports.
So I was on the couch and I was a crying quietly and the girl who was sitting ahead of me asked me what was going on and whether I needed anything. So I told her that my grandma had died and she comforted me and offered me tissues and patted me on the shoulder until I calmed down and fell asleep. She didn't have to do that and I wouldn't or couldn't have hold it against her if she didn't; we never met again, and I don't think I'd even recognize her, a stranger only seen between couch seats with dim lights. Still, it's one of the most precious things someone ever did for me. Everytime I am tempted to give up on hope that people are inherently good, that memory comes back to me. Kindness doesn't always have to come back and kindness doesn't always have to be big
When I was in my early twenties, I went for a short trip abroad with a friend. During the trip, my grandma passed away suddenly. Now, I didn't have the best relationship with that grandma, far from it. She was the first person that actually made me understand what neglect was, she was a vile person towards me.
Still, her dying opened up in me a wound, the pain, the guilt of not feeling the right amount pain, the knowledge that things with her could never be fixed. Well, painful.
The friend that I was with arranged it that I wouldn't have to find out before coming back to Italy but I accidentally found out anyway just before we had to say bye to go to different airports.
So I was on the couch and I was a crying quietly and the girl who was sitting ahead of me asked me what was going on and whether I needed anything. So I told her that my grandma had died and she comforted me and offered me tissues and patted me on the shoulder until I calmed down and fell asleep. She didn't have to do that and I wouldn't or couldn't have hold it against her if she didn't; we never met again, and I don't think I'd even recognize her, a stranger only seen between couch seats with dim lights. Still, it's one of the most precious things someone ever did for me. Everytime I am tempted to give up on hope that people are inherently good, that memory comes back to me. Kindness doesn't always have to come back and kindness doesn't always have to be big
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