There's a Difference Between Nice and Kind

The phone rang a few months ago.

High school friend. Cancer. Not the “good” kind — if there is such a thing. The kind where the percentages are single digits, and the math is brutal.

Chris went quiet.
I started building the plan.

Second opinions. Specialists. Infection-proof his house. Don’t forget the vegetable wash. A 10-page outline — at least — before we hung up the phone.

Just me doing something useful after hearing the worst news of someone’s life.

Chris gave me the look. I know that look.
I have been getting it my whole life.
The "that was cold" look.
The “that’s not very nice” look.

I never understood how sitting around wallowing was going to help the ones in crisis.

If there is an issue, a problem — I’d rather be the one who faces the hard stuff head-on, plans, and acts — even if they cannot.

That’s being kind.

To me, those were never the same thing. Not even close.

Why Do I Always Go Into Fix-It Mode?

When Ed, my late husband, got his diagnosis — 5% survivability with the poison that destroys your organs — same response.

No hesitation.
No falling apart.

We had a plan before we left the doctor’s office.

If it’s a month, it’s going to be a great month.
If it’s a year, a fun-filled, productive one.

Know the facts.
Prepare for the worst.
Strive for the best.

Of course, we had hope — as you should in a crisis, and honestly, in everything.
We were also realistic.

After Ed passed, the “I am so sorry” came in waves. Cards. Calls. Texts.

All well-meaning. What people do when they do not know what else to do...
Yes, I could have called. I got that.

What I needed was someone to say: get out of bed, take a shower because you stink, and we need cocktails.

My sisters did. My BFF did.

So, I asked my BFF what she thought of Nice vs. Kind. She said,

“It’s like having a booger.
Nice people see it, say hello, don’t say a word — and then feel bad for that person walking around not knowing.

A kind person says, ‘Hey, you’ve got a booger.’ Even if it embarrasses that person for a second.

Because would you rather walk around with a booger — or be temporarily uncomfortable?”

There it is. My view in one disgusting, perfect metaphor. No wonder we are BFFs.

Be useful, don't just do what's easy.
That’s my whole operating system.

Whenever life interrupted, being the one who told the truth and made the plan worked.

It worked through 9/11. It worked when Ed was sick, and after he passed.

Why would I question something that works?

What If They Don’t Need My Plan?

With my friend — sitting in his diagnosis, in the full weight of it — I said,
“It’s terminal. I know it’s brutal to hear it out loud. But that’s not just for you — all of us have an expiration date. We just do not know when. That’s a fact.”

The room flinched. I didn’t.

Then Chris said, “Have you considered that maybe he needs you to be nice and kind?”

My first reaction? What does that even mean?

I would want to know the facts.
I would want a plan.
I would stop wasting time on bullshit.
I would make the most out of the time I have.

The full argument is running in my head.
Airtight. Logical. Justified.

Chris is not a man of many words. I couldn’t get him to explain it logically to me, so I brushed him off. Yet this question would not leave me alone. It even stumped me mid-draft, which is why this one took longer to publish.

Does our friend need something more from me?

Not instead of the truth.
Not instead of the plan.

Does he also need someone to sit in the unbearable with him?

And maybe that is where I have been too quick to judge and dismiss “nice.”

Of course, Chris chimed in with, “You know I’m nice, right?”
Yes, I know you are nice — like a Boy Scout!

At its best, nice is not avoidance.
It's knowing how to carry the truth into the room without hitting them in the head with it.
It's Warmth, Timing, Tone.

This weekend we went out to dinner.

Our friend talked about his latest progress. And for once, I did not jump straight to the next action item.

I listened. I did not do very well.

I will get better at this. That's my move.

Your Move?

Think about the last time someone you love got difficult personal news — it could be about their career, their parents, their children, or their relationship.

What was your first instinct?
Nice? Kind? Or Both?
Which one came naturally?

Did you try to solve it?
Or just be there with them in it?

Life Interrupted for a reason.
Whatever your move is...
Make it unapologetically yours.

P.S. Is Planning How You Process the Hard Stuff? Apparently, it is for me. That’s what these blogs keep proving — it’s my modus operandi. Same with you?

P.P.S. Know the Woman Who Shows Up with a Plan When Everyone Else Sends a Card? Forward this to her. She is in the Unscripted Middle, and there is a seat at the table for her.