Life Lessons Courtesy of Lovely Rita

I had the remarkable good fortune to spend my 1970s childhood growing up less than a mile from my maternal grandmother, Hazel Rita. Quite possibly the most empathic human being I’ve ever known, my grandmother was an avid crocheter, voracious reader, art lover, and impassioned college basketball fan. She was an expert maker of kindergartener-approved lunch and her prowess in braiding my stick-straight hair was forever appreciated by my mother and me. I adored her.

While I was a pretty good kid, I certainly had moments of being sassy, unruly, and/or bratty, and this was the case on this particular evening with my grandmother. Sugar may have been involved. My grandmother was probably reinforcing a very appropriate boundary with me – likely sticking to bedtime or brushing my teeth – and I didn’t like it. I glared and sullenly told her, “I hate you.”

And she burst into tears. Genuine, uncensored, and deeply heartfelt.

After a second or two of absolute shock, I told my grandmother I didn’t mean it, that I didn’t hate her, I loved her, and I was so sorry to have made her sad. I crawled into her lap and we cuddled, my mind blown.

I had experienced adults getting mad, impatient, frustrated – but this? This was different. I’d never seen an adult cry and certainly not because of something I had said. I could say something, something that I didn’t even mean, and it could hurt. My words and feelings mattered.  

Here we are, almost 50 years later, and this life lesson continues to guide me. While Lovely Rita died in 1985, her compassionate spirit lives on every time I choose kindness in my thoughts and words. And for that my heart is forever grateful.