Gesundheit

I remember being told that the origin of the use of “God bless you” after a sneeze was that a sneeze was held to be a sign that you had the plague and were going to die.  Our history teacher in high school was full of fun facts like that.  Thinking that it would be darkly appropriate just now, I decided to look it up.  I’m not spending ages tracking this down and verifying it but it would appear that there is a modicum of truth to it.  Certainly, wishing someone “health” (Gesundheit) would appear to reflect the belief that a sneeze suggested you were experiencing the early stages of an illness.  If my history teacher was correct, medieval villagers may have been offering their neighbours a last, kind goodbye.

I’m not a religious person, particularly (despite what you may think, having read some of what’s on this blog).  I would like the world to be kinder than it is.  If some people are brought to kindness by belief in a god or gods, then, surely, that’s a good thing.  If others are brought to kindness by a forced awareness of their own mortality, then, while not a good thing in itself, it is a blessed by-product.

I’ve been thinking about this because I’ve been attempting to write letters to my family – the “to be opened in the event.”  Writing to my physically-distant family is easy – I love you, couched in pretty images and shared language.  But what is harder is writing to the people you see every day.  Because it’s hard to keep the pettiness at bay.  To say what’s on your heart, unclouded by the trivial hurts and nagging memories of ordinary human inadequacies.  It’s important to remember that what is written there will be all they have left of your true feelings – unadulterated by their memories of your own inadequacies or imperfections, or by their grief or need.

So, I’m editing for kindness.  Taking out the jokes – well, most of them.  Taking out the “I told you so” and the advice about how not to be so annoying.  Taking our most of it, in fact, except “I love you” and “God bless you.”