Respect for one another has eroded as if an avalanche has struck the mountainside. I can’t believe how far. So far, in fact, that love, kindness and respect for each other is questioned. Respect is so out of the norm that people ask, “Why are you being nice to me?” How sad. Being respectful of another person is now taken as a ruse of some sort. In other words, the expectation is now comments that are something in the way of disrespect. I’m thinking out loud here, but when love, kindness and good deeds are no longer the expectation, how slippery does the slope become?
I was getting blood drawn. It’s precautionary. Apparently, when one’s heart goes boom, they want to look at your blood a little more often. I had blood drawn a half-dozen times in my first 55 years of existence. In the past 3 years, I’ve lapped that number times three (at least).
A young woman with a needle and a tourniquet who will take out a very precious amount of something that I need to survive, triggers kindness and respect. It is not the time to argue the merits of the most recent election, or anything else controversial, for that matter. Of course I referred to her questions asked with, “Yes ma’am, no ma’am.”
I grew up old school. I was taught no matter what the age, respect must be shown to all people. Appreciate the differences among people, whatever they may be. We are all God’s children, and we’re to respect His masterful creation of human life. Now when I say I was taught, I mean with serious repercussions when respect was not visible. No kidding. There was no room for play.
The phlebotomist was a young African-American woman. Her professional attainment demanded respect. In my opinion, her training, testing and certification cemented her stature as a medical professional deserving respect. She was also a woman, and my “old school” ways demanded respect as well. It’s what I was taught.
As a response to my show of respect, she remarked, “You must have daughters.” “Yes, I do. Two of them, in fact.” She furthered the discussion by saying that dads always want their daughters respected, and that must be why I was respectful of her. Further, she said, “People don’t usually answer my questions with a respectful ‘yes ma’am’.”
I answered, “That’s sad. I respect you because of who you are, your position, your stature and just the fact that a conversation among people demands respect, love and kindness.” That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less. I fell just short of preaching; however, my words certainly did sound “old school.” The dad gene showed itself for sure.
She told me that I made her day. I told her that she made mine as well. She laughed as she loosened the tourniquet and pulled the needle from my arm.