I know, I know. There were two important US marches or rallies on Saturday, 28 August.  And from what I understand they were both filled with passionate people who cared or supported the “dream” of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. However, this post isn’t about being passionate. It’s strictly related to compassion that I’ve seen in two specific places that struck me.

The first is the Intensive Care Unit’s (ICU) waiting room. People admitted to the ICU, and especially for a fair amount of time, are in serious conditions. Family members and close friends spend an enormous time in the waiting area which is exclusive to those visitors only. Unfortunately the last time I spent there, my dear Michael didn’t leave with me. During his short bout with cancer, he had already been in ICU about 3 good times but just for a day or two. The last time was 10 days. By the time that week and 3 days were over, I knew most of the shut-in visitors who were there for their loved ones too.

We could care less about race, class, or creed. All that mattered was the person we were there to see and their full recovery. It’s amazing when you realize how much you have in common with other people, that that other stuff becomes insignificant. Pain hurts! We genuinely cared about each other and their loved ones. We were sincere without pretense and it was obvious. Although some of us knew it was the end for the patient we were visiting, we were still hopeful and our waiting roommates were pulling for them too. We played games together, shared food, talked, watched TV, and some even prayed. Of course I would be the one who noticed the authenticity.

The second place is the casino’s losers’ lounge. It’s really not a specific location but somehow they seem to gather together . Fortunately, I haven’t been one of these victims. I’m not saying I went to Vegas or Atlantic City and broke the banks, but I  have seen these people sitting in their area as I was walking away refusing to sulk since I was crazy enough to waste my money. But I really got a chance to see how empathetic people are when they are in the same sad situation. Old, young, smoker, non-smoker, republican, democrat, tea partier (I won’t go that far) and more.

I can’t see myself in a casino again, unless I’m walking through on my way to a Vegas wedding chapel. And I pray I won’t have to spend long grueling days in another depressing waiting room. It’s been said that you can’t heal what you don’t feel but it is my prayer and desire to see and have genuine compassion for my fellow man at all times. I want the third place to be wherever I am.

You tell me, what’s the fourth place?