When I was younger--much younger--my parents were so busy with their lives that they could not pick me up from pre-school and kindergarten. This turned out to be a phenomenal blessing in disguise, because it was my grandfather on my mothers side--the one who died of cancer when I was 14--who would pick me up and take me back to his house. There I would also get quite familiar with my grandmother, whose turn it would be to take care of me when my grandfather still had to go back to work at PECO after he dropped me off.
Their next-door neighbors, the McGill's, were always so nice to me. And not just that, "Oh, look at that cute child," kind of nice. Well into my teenage/young adult years, they continued to treat me with the same kindness and respect. Mr. and Mrs. McGill both outlived my grandfather, so any time I visited my grandmom while she still lived at her house on Arthur Street in Northeast Philly, they stuck out as kind reminders of my pop-pop.
While I was still younger than 10, the McGill's housed a sick relative in their basement. From what I remember the relative was terminally ill, and although I didn't understand it then, I'm pretty sure the relative was under hospice care. Despite the illness, this relative, who's name I cannot remember, kept their sense of humor through the worst stanza of their life.
One time in particular I was invited to their basement to meet this relative, and hilariously enough (for me--I was never afraid like many people seem to be nowadays) the relative was decked out in clown attire. The relative, who I'll name Sally for now, was hysterical! She didn't do anything over the top, just acted really silly.
I only got to see Sally once one or two times more, and each time she was in clown attire ready to perform for her one fan--me.
There have been many points in my young life so far that I've put so much stress on myself to be something great that I didn't allow myself to enjoy the little things or even enjoy the big things. Sally, though, would always come back into my mind as someone who was able to live happily when life did everything it could to keep her otherwise. I'm sure it's one of the reasons that I'm a goof; one of the reasons why I have a happy-go-lucky persona when times are tougher for me.
Aside form the obvious things her personality taught me, some not-so-obvious realizations came later in life. I realized that anyone, even for a moment in time, can make a great impression on your life. Everyone always talks about the importance of a first impression. Although the first impression of her was of a silly clown, it was also my last impression of her. She was consistent. Instead of just leaving a small imprint on my life, she ended up leaving an indelible mark. That happened because of her consistent persona even in the short time that I had known her.
First impressions are important, of course, but more important than that is making sure you don't stray too far from yourself in the worst of times. The times that accumulate the most adversities.
It's really hard for us to do, but if a sick clown can do it...
- PatInTheClownHat
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