I am a firm believer in “everyone has something” and I admire when people are open and vulnerable about their story.
I met a man at the dog park the other day and he also got his degree in biology and works in umbilical cord cells and tissues for a large company.
We talked about his two dogs who were rescues, and how he is now a grandfather because his son and wife had their first child.
He went on to tell me how him and his wife spend their winter in Arizona, but come back to Pennsylvania to take care of his mom with dementia. Through his story he maintained a good attitude and even cracked a few jokes.
His mom had refused to have any “strangers” in their house, which included nurses, therapists anyone, and in turn, every time him and his wife hired somebody, they usually lasted a couple days and then she would fire them.
He told them that the next time she fired them, to ignore her and come back the next day.
My coworker, who has a smile on his face and looks out for me and invites me to lunch with them, just told me the other day that his mom had been diagnosed with cancer in January and was too tired and drained to travel for the holiday weekend.
Another coworker deals with his rude wife, while also taking care of his sick mother. He is probably mid fifties, and will take her to her “day camp”. My heart sinks for him when his phone continuously rings through out the day. I feel like he can’t get a breath or catch a break.
My high school teacher, who helped bring me closer and stronger in my faith, is unable to get pregnant, and her father shot her mom then turned the gun on himself. Even through all of this her faith is unwavering and I look up to her so much.
My best friend struggles with depression, and I love her more than anything.
It may be completely weird, but I love hearing about others’ stories, where they came from, and how they are managing.