CeCe has asked me to run a quick errand for our Aunt Kate, who lives in an independent living facility close to our home. Aunt Kate is in her early 80s and CeCe is her primary caregiver. Today, I’m on the way to pick up a contact to replace the one that she lost.
I call Aunt Kate to meet me at the back door and pick up the contact. “I’ll be there in five minutes Aunt Kate.” “Okay, Honey Bunny, thanks so much for doing this.” Honey Bunny?! I think as I hang up.
Driving up, Aunt Kate is standing outside with her walker waiting on me. I roll down my window and hand her the contact. “Oh Goodness, Honey Bunny, I can’t thank you enough for doing this. It was worrying me to death. I love you so much, thank you.” Now I admit, this “honey bunny” was not rocking my world.
As I’m driving off with honey bunny ringing in my ears, I realize how selfish I am being. This is simply an endearing term that Aunt Kate uses to express her appreciation. She means it in a very loving way and I have missed the joy she is sharing with me because I don’t like the term or the sound of it. Am I too proud to be honey bunny? Too mature? I know it doesn’t say much for me.
How often do we miss the love or joy someone shares with us because they express it differently or subtly? Are we looking at people’s good intentions or being judgemental in the moment like I was? Heck, I should be proud to be somebody’s honey bunny! However, I don’t recall CeCe using that term with me around the house lately. The last few have not sounded anything like “honey bunny!”