Last year, as many of you know, my dad committed suicide. A couple of months after his death, I was in our local Petsmart and started talking to a really cool dog trainer. He was bright, loved animals, and had one of his dogs with him (who obviously adored him and did everything he asked). Well, I had an unmanageable basset puppy and was desperate, so I signed up for his class. The next week I went to the first class, puppy in hand (more or less), but there was a different trainer. I asked her what happened to the guy I met, and she, obviously uncomfortable, said he had died suddenly. After the class I backed her into a corner and asked point blank how he had died, and after she hemmed and hawed admitted it was suicide. The poor thing had shot himself -- like my dad. I felt so very sorry that he felt that was his only option, and the trainer volunteered that his girlfriend, who also worked at the store, had been the one to find him.
Well, when I got home I wrote a note of sympathy, explaining about my dad and how I knew how bad the family must feel. I really don't remember what I wrote, but I addressed it "to the family of [the trainer]" and the next week gave it to my trainer and asked her to pass it on to the girlfriend.
Life went on, Ladybug sort of got trained, a year passed, I made new friends, including this really cool English lady whose son is a great friend of Jackson's. Well, last weekend we had a crawfish boil for our local apostates and I invited my new non-ex-JW friends in the mix and we had lots of mudbugs, beer, and had a wonderful time. My new English friend was there, and during the course of the evening we talked about children and life and love, and she mentioned that her oldest daughter (who is a bit of handful) had ended up living with this poor guy who committed suicide. When she mentioned his name, I choked because it was the guy from Petsmart! I told her my story, and it was her turn to gasp, because her daughter had received my note and was really blown away that a complete stranger had written to her.
I met her daughter today and when she realized who I was she threw herself at me and hugged the stuffing out of me for a good minute. She said she still has my note in her car and reads it often.
My point in this rather long story is this: when you are moved to do something nice, do it. Don't think ahead to consequences of your actions or what "might" happen -- just do it. If someone puts on their indicator and wants to move ahead of you, let them in. It won't make your journey any longer and it might just be the nicest thing that happens to that person that day. YOU JUST NEVER KNOW WHAT IMPACT YOU MAKE ON THE LIVES OF OTHERS. LET IT BE FOR GOOD.
Nina (after two rather large glasses of cabernet)