Violets in the Street

When my stepmother was eighty-eight and I was fifty-nine she said, “I never realized how very thoughtful you are.”

It surprised and pleased me. What had she seen that led her to that conclusion? It also angered me to remember all the times I had been thoughtful in our family and never been recognized for it.

I pictured violets in the street. Every time I tell this story I picture violets in the street.

When I was ten and my stepmother was thirty-nine I went to a nearby field and picked a large handful of wild violets to give to her. She loved violets, they were her favorite flower, and she cultivated several small flowerpots of African violets. On my way home as I crossed the street in front of our house, the bundle of violets came apart in my hand and most of them spilled to the street. There were not enough of them left in my hand to make a decent gift so I let them go, and I went into the house weeping with shame and disappointment.

“What’s the trouble?” my stepmother asked as I lay inconsolable on my bed. I could not tell her. And I never did.

I call her my stepmother here, but my sister and I were never allowed to disclose that she was not our natural mother. It was never spoken of, even in our family, though my sister and I did occasionally speak of it. But that’s another story.

When you are a thoughtful person it doesn’t occur to you to say, “I’m being thoughtful right now.” When you are a thoughtless person it doesn’t occur to you to say, “I am being thoughtless right now.” No one can say that truthfully because to do so requires some bit of reflection.

When you are a thoughtful person you might remember something and say, “I was thoughtless yesterday,” and you will wince inside. It is very painful. When you are a thoughtless person you might remember something and say, “I was thoughtful yesterday,” and the recollection will bring you great satisfaction.

When you are a thoughtful person if someone says, “That was thoughtless what you did yesterday,” you will feel pain and think about what you did and apologize. When you are a thoughtless person and someone says, “That was thoughtless what you did yesterday,” you are aggravated and you tell that person that, one, you were not thoughtless and two, that it was the other person’s fault.

When you are a thoughtful person you are not thoughtful all the time, but you are regretful when you become aware of your missteps—and every time you remember them thereafter. When you are a thoughtless person you are not thoughtless all the time but you don’t think about it one way or the other, perhaps because you act out of a sense of duty.

There are many thoughtless persons in the world, and they are angered at the thoughtlessness of others. Thoughtful persons are also angered by the thoughtlessness of others.

But when you are a thoughtful person and are the recipient of a thoughtful act you are deeply grateful. When you are a thoughtless person you don’t notice thoughtful acts.

When my son was thirteen and I was thirty-seven I passed an empty space in the Walmart parking lot and took another two spaces beyond. He asked me why I did that and I explained that there was a car behind us and if I had taken the first one the driver of that car would have had to wait for us to get out of the way, whereas this way both of us could pull into our spaces. He remarked that I was thoughtful and I rejoiced inwardly because if he was noticing the thoughtfulness of others there was a good chance he would himself become thoughtful.

One has to work at evolving into thoughtfulness. Remaining thoughtless all one’s life is pretty easy.

When I was sixty-eight and my stepmother was ninety-seven I drove two thousand miles to be there for her and help out any way I could. The day I arrived she said, “I love you but I want you to go.” I asked why and she said because she didn’t want me to see her like this. A thoughtless person finds a thoughtful person easy to love. I wanted to tell her this was not the worst I had seen her but I left her room in tears. Her friend/caretaker chastised her then came out to talk to me and told me how older people could be but I was not crying because of my long drive but because this was a completely accurate and poignant depiction of my whole life with her.

I stopped in the next morning before my departure to say goodbye and I could tell from the look she gave me that she knew we would not see each other again. She wanted our goodbye to be somehow profound. She made no mention of regret over sending me away. I said my goodbye but was restrained. I do not regret my restraint.

A thoughtful person’s ability to love is not infinite.