The Kindest Thing You Can Do is Let Someone Else Be Kind

I’ve learned countless lessons from my friend June, and while one of the biggest was a life changing moment for me, another little tidbit has stuck with me for years.

It’s a small, simple moment that reveals so much about human connection.

(And shows what a a wonderful person June was.)

I was with June downtown one day when a woman asked us if we needed directions. I knew June was familiar with the area, but for some reason she politely told the woman she didn't know the way. The woman then happily gave June a detailed set of directions.

As we walked away, I asked June why she pretended not to know where we were going.

June’s answer was simple and profound: “People like to help others. It makes them feel good.”

I can still picture the scene perfectly:

June listened intently, nodding and smiling, and the woman genuinely happy to be helping, as she pointed to the direction down around the corner where we needed go. When she finished, June thanked her with a huge, grateful smile - and even a hug! They both walked away a little happier.

In that small interaction, June taught me that sometimes, the kindest thing you can do is let someone else be kind.

It’s a beautiful reminder that connection and shared joy can be found in the simplest of exchanges.

(Gemini created)

The Unseen Burden of Certain Questions

It's incredibly tough when seemingly innocent questions cause deep pain, especially during vulnerable times. And they aren't trivial instances - some have a significant emotional impact, and they stay with us.

Sometimes, a seemingly simple question can inflict deep emotional distress, even if that's not the asker's intent. While "terrible" might not be the exact word, there are moments when a question, innocently posed, places you in an incredibly difficult and uncomfortable position. It's hard to explain, but there have been a few times in my life where such a question has left me feeling profoundly upset, precisely because of the unfair position I felt like I was in.

I'll share an example that still brings me to tears (even as I type this out), even almost 14 years later. When my Mom was in hospice, someone asked if they could visit her... during her final hours. My Mom and I were incredibly close, and I knew she would only want one person by her side during that intimate time: me; the love of her life (she would always exclaim). She wouldn't have wanted a crowd; or people gawking at her, or anything like that; she just wanted me there by her side. Further, this person was someone my Mom didn't really like.

So, through my own grief and tears, I gently said no. But then, they asked again. Having to reiterate "no" while my Mom was dying and all I wanted was to be fully present with her was excruciating. It was an unimaginable burden to be forced into that conflict during such a raw, suffering time.

I was very upset that someone would place me in such a position when I was already so vulnerable. Their focus seemed to be solely on their own desire to "be there," without considering the immense emotional cost to me, or my Mom's wishes. This person had barely been present in my Mom's life for the past two years, only showing up once when she was very sick, and then suddenly wanting to be there at the very end just didn't align with what I knew my Mom wanted. As someone who naturally tries to please others, it's already incredibly difficult for me to say no or risk hurting feelings. To do so while enduring such profound personal suffering felt almost unbearable.

This experience highlights the invisible weight certain questions can carry. It serves as a powerful reminder to consider the impact of our inquiries on others, especially when they may be navigating difficult circumstances. Even now, facing a personal medical procedure that requires assistance, I find myself hesitant to ask for help, fearing I'll inconvenience someone or put them in an awkward position where they feel obligated rather than genuinely wanting to help.

Sharing About Sobriety

There are several "initiatives" at my workplace, and one is about Recovery.

They said we can submit our stories for a presentation at the end of the month. "Be a part of the ABC's of Alcohol event while maintaining your anonymity!" 

Ooooh, I want to do that - I want to submit some things about my sobriety!

But I don't even know where to begin.

So, this morning while still lying in bed, I looked up some of my previous blog entries about not drinking anymore.  They are here:

• Inner Turmoil Doing the Right Thing (for Myself)
• Jealous of Drinkers?
• Friendships Are Stronger Since Not Drinking
• 365 Days Ago
• Alcohol to Calm Nerves
• Recovery Process
• Feeling 100%

While it was cool to reminisce, I still don't know what to submit. Not because I don't like to talk, not because I don't like to share, and not because I'm ashamed, it's because I have SO MUCH to say. :)

They are going to share some of the stories we submit intermittently throughout the presentation - hell, I could BE that entire presentation. hahaha.  Vain much, Melinda?  

Seriously, it's really not about being vain but instead I have so much I can talk about: how as a child and teenager I was around alcohol all the time, how wanting to drink was a daily thought throughout most of my life, how I tried to quit drinking many times, how I used alcohol as an excuse for not wanting to feel painful emotions, how I became sober and how sobriety has helped me lead a better/happier life.

But I seriously don't even know where to start.

What I do know is, I should have many, many more blog posts than just the few above about my sobriety.  Heck it's been over 7 years since I finally had my last drink from being a deep drinker - I need to blog more about it!  Oh, but wait, where would I begin?

Here are some photos of me drinking in my 40s:  Can you tell I liked pomegranate martinis?