Back in 1993, what feels like another lifetime, Dwight and I moved into a one-bedroom condo on the seventh floor or The American Towers in downtown Salt Lake City.
The idea of living downtown was charming. Everything was within walking distance. But, Dwight, having had a stroke, could not walk.
Instead, we pulled into underground parking, parked the copper-colored Mitsubishi Montero, and rode the elevator up to our condo.
Our condo was sterile. We matted posters from our favorite musicals to line the hallway.
In addition to the white walls, the windows only opened a few inches.
However, I learned one of my biggest life lessons in the kitchen in that condo.
The day we moved in, Dwight’s daughter, Heidi, came by. For whatever the reason, like the Grinch, “her heart or her shoes,” she stood there hating me, who was not even a Who.
Her disdain and dislike manifest itself in ugly ways.
I was busy in the kitchen. Heidi ignored me.
Dwight told her, “Until you can treat everyone in our home with respect, decency, and grace, you are not welcome here.”
For six months, Heidi did not visit her father in our home. Instead, they met weekly for sushi. I dropped him off and picked him up from the restaurant.
I learned that Basic Human Decency counts and must be a requirement.]
Years later, I require kindness, grace, respect and compassion in my home.