Letter to James 12.2.24 – Thanksgiving and Being Kind

James,

It has been nearly a year since I last wrote a letter to you. That last letter was written right after my visit with you in Boston the week before Christmas.  You would end up staying in Boston for Christmas.  Since then, much has happened, and quite honestly, there was lots to write about.  You moved to Virginia, your mom got a new job as a Maternal Fetal Medicine Doctor at UVA, your Dad got a basketball head coaching job at Monticello High School, you turned four years old, and your sister had her first birthday.  And that is only a few of the things that happened that were worth writing about. I hope to do better this next year and to write more.

James, you did something a few days ago that I just had to write about.  And on days when you may not feel so nice, I hope you pull this letter out.  I know I will when I have those feelings.

We are told that it important to know someone’s story. But why is that? The theory is that if we know a person’s story or background, we can begin to understand their worldview and as a result, understand why they believe certain things and behave in a certain way. And if we are able to put ourselves in their shoes, that understanding can become internalized and deeply felt. Yes, I am referring to the importance of something called empathy. 

We rarely get to see that process occur, but I was fortunate to see it happen a few days ago with you.  Yes, my four-year-old grandson taught me all over again the importance of empathy. 

You love your dog Odin. And you should love her very much.  She was with your dad when he was single.  She then welcomed your mom to her “Pack”, and then she welcomed you and then your sister Elizabeth.  And she has also welcomed me and Gizzy to her Pack.  So, she is a very good dog, but she does tend to be overprotective of her Pack. 

Like many children your age, you are beginning to put people and things into categories. And this includes dogs.  So, Odin is a “good dog.” And you are also beginning to understand tribes. Your most important tribe right now is your family – as it should be – and this includes Odin.

I also have a dog. And her name is Emmy Lou. And although I love her very much, she is not in your tribe. She is also a very good dog but can be jealous sometimes. As a result, when your family visits, Odin sometimes growls at Emmy to protect if she feels that Emmy is getting too close to her family. And Emmy sometimes growls out of jealousy if Odin gets too close to me. 

Some growling occurred during your Thanksgiving visit and you immediately defended Odin and called her a good dog and that you liked her. You then made a distinction by calling Emmy a bad dog and proclaimed your dislike for her. James, if you only knew how your actions during that brief interchange reflected so much of what is going on right now. 

But then your dad, who is and always has been wise, told you that Emmy was not a bad dog and that although she had a great life now, her early life as a puppy was difficult. You then did something that I wish more people would do.  You showed genuine curiosity and asked why. 

So, I told you that when Emmy was a puppy, she and her siblings caught a disease that killed one of her brothers and one of her sisters. And although Emmy survived, it was very hard on her. And when Emmy was a year old, she was hit by a car that shattered her hip so that she no longer has a hip joint. But even so, she can run and play like other dogs. You would not even know it unless it was pointed out to you.  So, she has scars that you cannot see.   

Because the room was full of people your dad turned his attention back to baby Elizabeth and the normal chatter from everyone in the room resumed. But I watch you as you stood across the room petting Odin, calming her and reassuring her. But I also saw you studying Emmy, who was lying next to me. And I could tell by your gaze that you were processing what we had told you. And though it was very subtle, I saw sadness and concern on your face. It is amazing how transparent children are.  Children your age have not yet learned how to suppress their emotions, follow norms and to conform.

You then did something that truly astonished me. You came over and very quietly asked where the shattered hip was located on Emmy’s body. I pointed to her hip, and you gently touched it.  You looked at her big brown eyes and she turned and licked your hand. You then sat next to her and stroked the back of the very dog that you had proclaimed as a very bad dog a few minutes earlier. And you did this with no fanfare or new proclamation— not needing or seeking to be affirmed as right, nice or good. You just did it. I would like to think that you experienced what we call empathy. 

Seeing this gave me hope that our ability to empathize is innate in most of us. We just need to stop trying to prove that we or the tribes we identify with are right, causing us to conform to world views that inhibit our innate ability to empathize. James, you were so sure of your convictions. But you listened, truly processed and internalized new information and obviously changed your mind. I wish we were all so wise.

James, in that letter that I sent to you a year ago. I encouraged you to never stop asking questions. When you do so, you may find that many people do not like WHY questions so much – especially why they believe something or why they do certain things.  But James, keep asking lots of questions. That is how you learn so much. And as I learned again from you over Thanksgiving, it is how we can come to understand others and show empathy.

Maybe it was not empathy.  Maybe you were just being kind. And maybe that is all we need – just be kinder and nicer to each other.

With much love,

Papa J