A Man and His Not So Good Day

Posted in kindnessTagged , , , , ,

“There comes a point where we need to stop just pulling people out of the river. We need to go upstream and find out why they’re falling in.” – Desmond Tutu

This past weekend my kids and I had a day where we did so many of our favorite things – saw friends, played games, sang, and hung out together. So at bedtime, we were talking about what a good day it was.

Then six-year-old Mr. D piped in, “But not for the man. He didn’t have a good day.”

Oh yes – the man. Mr. D and I had dropped Miss O off at her musical rehearsal and then were driving up the hill near our house at 10am on a Saturday morning. We were going to the grocery store for some snacks to eat on our way to baseball. We passed a man that was on his hands and knees on the little section of grass between the curb and the sidewalk.

That didn’t look right. So I backed down the hill and stopped next to him. As I got out of the car, a woman who was talking on her phone walked up. She had called 9-1-1. Between her conversation with them and some comments she directed to me, I got a sense of what had happened.

This 60-something man had been looking unsteady at the top of the hill. The woman and at least one other person had offered to help and he’d refused. He’d started down the hill, lost his balance and then face-planted somewhere near the bottom.

I gave him some napkins from my car to put on his face where it was bleeding. Mr. D picked up the pieces of his glasses. The woman was continuing her conversation with 9-1-1 but the man refused medical assistance. As she answered their questions, she sounded kinda snarky. Almost like she was put out that he got hurt after refusing her help.

I got out a collapsible chair from the back of our car and set it up. The man, whose name we found out was Mike, was able to get off the ground and sit in the chair. Mr. D found a bottle of water and we poured it over his bloody hands.

It turned out he lived a few blocks from where we discovered him. He dropped his shopping bag when he fell. The only thing in it was a now-smashed pint of gin whose contents had emptied on the sidewalk. Since he’d refused help from the authorities, I offered him a ride home. He didn’t want that either.

He stood up, I folded up the chair, the woman ended her call with 9-1-1 and we all went our separate ways. As we started driving again, Mr. D said, “that was scary.” When I asked what part, he responded, “All the blood.”

So at the end of the day, Mr. D was right – Mike probably didn’t have a good day. But I couldn’t help but think that scene was an allegory of what it means to be in community. I’d argue that it’s likely we all have been in each of the three roles at some point in our lives: the person turning down assistance even when we are feeling unsteady, the judgmental helper who is willing to step in but not without adding commentary, and the person who offers a chair. I know I have been all three.

And maybe the point is just to keep trying to improving the way we play our parts by accepting help, not being judgmental, and offering comfort in the effort to work toward some version of a future where no one falls down any more.

(featured photo is from Pexels)

You can find me on LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/wynneleon/ and Instagram @wynneleon

Please check out the The Life of Try podcast Where trying becomes the spark for personal growth, discovery, and re-invention!

74 thoughts on “A Man and His Not So Good Day”

  1. I think we’ve all been there.

    Mr. D is right that is so scary. Sometimes our dignity gets in the way of good judgment. And others are more judgmental than they are helpful or curious. That man didn’t get that way that morning, neither did the woman. You stopped and provided aid and did the right thing. Mr. D will never forget the compassion and care you showed that morning. Have a wonderful week. Peace.

    Liked by 3 people

    Reply

  2. So many features to this story. The pride, the loneliness(?), the alcohol, the genuine concern, the grudging help, the complexity of human interactions, the kindness, aging, the heart of a mom and her son, etc. Great stuff, Wynne. Thank you!

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

  4. You had the grace to stop and offer assistance – a wonderful teaching lesson for Mr. D, on top of that. Whether or not help was accepted is neither here nor there.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  5. This scenario is all too familiar at my house, as my husband, after 13 knee surgeries, falls often. I will add the humiliation and embarrassment he feels when others rush to help him.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. Oh, that has to be so hard. You make a great point, VJ. Driving by didn’t seem to be the right thing to do but I understand Mike’s embarrassment as well. You’ve probably figured out how to find a good balance of care, concern, and independence in your house.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

  6. This ole duffer hopes you 3 happen to be driving by if I ever fall Wynne. You won’t have to deal with any gin 🙂, but I’ll welcome the chair, concern and help to ease my bad day.

    You 3 good Samaritans did the right and noble thing. The ole dude”s cantankerous refusal to accept your help only exacerbated his bad day, and is on him. Thanks for trying to make his bad day better.

    Keep Looking Up ^ … His Best is Yet to Come!

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

  9. I love this observation, Wynne:
    …”it’s likely we all have been in each of the three roles at some point in our lives: the person turning down assistance even when we are feeling unsteady, the judgmental helper who is willing to step in but not without adding commentary, and the person who offers a chair….”
    So true…so very true. And I love that the experience lingered for Mr. D. Your children are so thoughtful and aware…thanks to their mama. Love and hugs to all of you! 😊💝😊

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. Oh, I love my kids’ big hearts. I am doing my best to just nurture that the best I can (e.g. not ruin it!). 🙂

      After we drove on a little further, Mr. D said, “Did he bleed in our chair?” Well, yes, he did. But we can fix that, right?

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

  10. This is such a beautiful display of the full spectrum of humanity, ranging from kindness and grace to stubbornness and pride. While I’m sorry to hear Mr. D was a bit scared, I hope it was a good lesson in navigating how to help people who don’t necessarily want the help.

    Liked by 3 people

    Reply

    1. It’s funny, Erin. I’m not sure I know how to navigate helping people who don’t want help. But the thing I see again and again is that I’m not out to teach a lesson but the kids take away something regardless. It’s fascinating!

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

      1. You know what, I think we’re you’re just a good person living in alignment with what you feel to be right, you don’t need to make an effort to teach a lesson… I think kids pick up on those things by osmosis. Miss O and Mr. D are so lucky to have such a wonderful example to learn from! 💖

        Like

  11. Oh what a heartfelt share Wynne and Mr. D. was so keenly observant and kind.. no doubt a trait he got from his mom. I love your roles you point out and I think we have been in all of them at one point or another. I love how you got out a chair and he actually took you up on that. I keep wondering how he survived without his gin that night and if he did in fact get someone to go out and get it or drive himself later. The other thing I’m struck by is we can’t keep anyone from falling down and getting help so we do what we can and offer and maybe you made just a little inroad into his soul of appreciation. You are both such giving souls and the world is better because of you! ❣️

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. I wondered that about the gin too, Cindy. I guess we’ll never know but I felt for him because that definitely made his bad day worse.

      I love your phrase “inroad into his soul of appreciation.” I hope so. Thank you for the insightful and generous comment!!

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

    1. Thank you, Elizabeth. As you know, it’s fascinating to see what kids take away from situations. Especially when we are just reacting and not trying to teach one. Thank you for the lovely comment.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

  13. Oh my goodness Wynne, what an odd turn of events.That was scary. But you did your part, by doing what you could when offering some sense of comfort in that moment. Very good lesson for the day. Thanks so much for sharing the love my friend. 🥰🙏🏼🥰

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. Thank you for this generous comment, Kym. You do such a great job of talking about what ripples out from us and hopefully there was a little lasting touch to make Mike’s bad day a little better. Thanks, my friend! ❤ ❤ ❤

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

      1. Oh you’re so very welcome my dear Wynne! You truly show us and your children life lessons that can have a long-lasting impression my friend. I appreciate you and your “aha” moments! Hugs and smooches! 😍💖😍

        Liked by 1 person

  16. Sadly Mike is probably having a string of bad days. Alcohol is a refuge for many hurt souls and they feel vulnerable when their failings become public. You did what you could, and perhaps him seeing the concern not only of adults but of children will help him seek the help he needs. One can hope you all offered him a small ray of hope.

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

  17. This is spot on, “And maybe the point is just to keep trying to improving the way we play our parts by accepting help, not being judgmental, and offering comfort in the effort to work toward some version of a future where no one falls down any more.” Well written!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  18. Perfect reflection, my friend. I hope the man gets some help at some point because I think he has some deep scars that need healing. Luckily, Mr. D only noticed the blood, and not “the other things”, and was part of helping a fellow man.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  19. I hope Mike will be ok!

    As always, you turn a simple moment into a deep life lesson for Mr D – about what it means to offer grace and help, to encounter those who may be resistant to help, and to also know how to respond to offers of help should you be in the same situation.

    I sometimes forget the kid is only 6. He’s doing great and so are you!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  21. Accepting help from others is hard for many people. In this case, perhaps the man was embarrassed and thought it could lead to more trouble if he accepted someone’s help. Interesting reaction from the other woman who was trying to help him.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. I totally agree, Pete. It was interesting that she reacted that way and because I don’t know her outside of that situation, I have no idea what her take is. People are interesting! Thanks for the great comment!

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

  22. You guys are SO kind! 60 something is not old. (I haven’t read any of the other comments) but guessing gin had a part to play in that situation. No judgement here. how does that go? Except for the grace of God, there go I.

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply

    1. Ah, that’s the perfect adage for this. Except for the grace of God – exactly! I feel that deeply. And I think you’re right about the gin. My heart goes out to Mike. Let’s hope a little good came out of that situation – as you know, the grace of God is mysterious and awesome.

      Like

      Reply

  25. Kids notice everything, don’t they. And they don’t let it go the way adults do. What got me most was the three roles you named. I’ve definitely been all of them too. That framing is so honest and I think it’s what makes this post land the way it does. Hope Mike’s okay, wherever he is now.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  26. I think the woman’s attitude is very interesting. For her to be annoyed because he didn’t do what she wanted him to do, and then for her to practically say “Told You!” when he continued to struggle. You were right to help, but not push. Good lesson for Mr D, and for me too.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. I thought the same, Gwen. Because I don’t know her outside of that situation, I have no idea what her take is but I did hear her say that she was very late. Maybe it wasn’t the top of her game either. It was a good lesson for me too! Thank you, my friend!

      Like

      Reply

  28. I absolutely love your final point: “And maybe the point is just to keep trying to improving the way we play our parts by accepting help, not being judgmental, and offering comfort in the effort to work toward some version of a future where no one falls down any more.” 💞💞

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  30. a bittersweet, but wonderful story. thank you and mr. d for being the one who offered the chair and comfort. this could be all of us in any of those roles

    Like

    Reply

  31. “And maybe the point is just to keep trying to improve the way we play our parts by accepting help, not being judgmental, and offering comfort in the effort to work toward some version of a future where no one falls down any more.” Amen, Wynne. A worthy and challenging goal for me to keep in mind.

    Like

    Reply

Leave a comment