Yesterday, I shared this story on FB. I know exactly how that poor woman felt: when a complete stranger comes to your rescue and they don’t even know what an impact they had. When my mother was dying and I was trying to finish renovating our house, I broke down in the closet aisle of Home Depot and the poor clerk pretty much carried me to my car, with all my closet supplies. He still waves at me every time I walk by (I go there a lot).
The Uber driver who rushed me to the hospital late at night when J’s heart stopped and I was 100% certain he was going to be dead before I got there. I cried so hard the whole way there. He just kept telling me he would get me there, and he did, and that wasn’t even close to being the time he would die. The next day, I saw that he had left me positive feedback. The DRIVER left me, the hysterical passenger, positive feedback!
The conversation on my FB wall quickly brought up another kind stranger: the young lady at the hospital parking lot. I ended up becoming friendly with another transplant family and we both remember this young attendant with her crazy manicured nails. She was sweet and kind and made a lasting impression on me and on the other family. She probably has no idea.
Yesterday, I posted one of my #widowhood doodles on my Instagram. Honestly, I didn’t think anyone really looked at them. To me, it’s a way to pass the time, to channel my feelings onto paper and then release them into the universe. This particular doodle included the phrase ‘too many tears, not enough hugs’. Well, a few hours later, my doorbell rang and boom, random hug from someone who keeps insisting we are not really friends. Dude, you showed up at my house to hug me!
I fuel myself with these random acts. I have some very very good friends, who have carried me more than any friends should ever have to. And I will never ever be able to thank them all enough or find a way to repay them. You know who you are: the feeders and the drivers and the picker-uppers. But I also want to take a moment to thank all the kind gestures of people who might not be in the inner-circle, but who every day make it possible for me to keep putting one foot in front of another.