Hi! And welcome to my corner. “Why have a corner?” you might ask. Well, because there are thoughts I have and topics I want to explore through writing which don’t necessarily fit the intent of the “Beyond the Bars” space, and having recently acquired johndoll.com I now have an interesting opportunity to create a space for sharing those thoughts and curiosities. Mostly, I imagine myself to be the primary beneficiary of this work. I do, though, hope that if you take the time to read any of it some value comes into your life as well. May you be free from suffering, may you be happy, may you be healthy, may you find peace and joy.

15 Minutes to Make a Difference

“Great opportunities to help others seldom come, and small ones surround us every day.” -anon

I read this quote in a chicken soup for the soul book when I was 17 years old and it was a transformational shift in my perspective on life. It has stuck with me ever since, and in my good and best moments has guided my actions. This is the moral, yet again proven to me. Read on for the story, the lead in may seem long but it’s worth it and relevant.

Today I bought a van. A work van, a 2017 Ford Transit-150 kitted out as a contractor special with ladder roof racks that still make my heart sing. I bought the van and left the dealership first thing this morning without the keys because I did not have a ride to make it work that I could get my new vehicle home without leaving another vehicle behind. It was fine, I arranged with the dealership to pick it up on Monday. However, I finished the job I was working on early by a few hours (things went way smoother than expected) and found myself home with more than enough time to spare before the dealership closed. I could get my van home today.

So, I decided to do something I’ve not done in a very long time and hire a Lyft. I got on the app and discovered I could have a pick up in 5 minutes to take me the 20 minutes to the dealers for less than $20. I swiped “make it happen” (or whatever you swipe) and readied myself for the ride. I’m a conversationalist, I love people and their stories. I talk with everyone, especially those helping me out. My driver’s name was (I really want to make him human and say his name, and I have decided it wouldn’t be right. He is a cool human though. Good people.), and I had an easy conversation starter because Lyft sent him to my neighbor’s house to pick me up because I didn’t notice their location service was about 200 yards off. The first five minutes we chatted back and forth first about technology and how funny the rapid evolution of it barely keeps pace with our expectations, then about being young men and racing and wrecking cars and the weird/scary/thrilling experience of thinking you are unbreakable and unbeatable because you’ve never broken and never lost until you do (he’s in his late twenties, me in my mid-forties). We were having a good time and sharing some important memories, and then came the surprise.

He asked me “do you have any kids?” I responded “Yes, three. 14, 13, and 11. Two boys and my little girl.” He said “I thought so. Do you mind? I mean, we kind of have a vibe going here but I really need to tell you something and it’s really going to change the tone.” I responded (a bit off foot, and very curious) “Of course, please.” He said

“I lost my little girl, my daughter yesterday morning. She died. It’s been five days she was in the hospital and me and her mother had to make the decision to withdraw life support yesterday morning. Today is the first day I’ve been out in a week.” I said “Oh, oh, how awful. I can only imagine. What happened?” He shared “She was staying with her mother, she was five months old. She somehow rolled over in her sleep and suffocated. Her mother checked on her just before she was going to sleep herself after doing all the parent stuff you do after your babies finally fall asleep and she was blue and not responding. She got help as fast as she could but it was too late and we fought for five days. But we had to let her go.”

I don’t know any words for making that better, it would take magic and I have none. So rather than try I acknowledged that I was without such words and filled with love and grief and so many unspeakable feelings for what I imagined that to be like, and how I remembered what it was like to fear that happening to my baby. And I invited him to say more, say everything he wanted to. He said so many things. He spoke of pain, of rage, of despair, of compassion, of love, of empathy. He spoke of so many human things. I sat in love and care, and he processed the unthinkable. I will never forget that 15 minutes.

We arrived at the dealership and he pulled over, this beautiful and broken young human fighting to keep himself from falling into a hole of despair if for nothing but his remaining daughter and he looked at me and said “Thanks for talking about that with me”. And I said “I don’t know if it’s against the rules to hug your Lyft driver, but I’m hugging you either way if you want it.” And I took a knee on the back floor of his SUV and hugged him like one of my own kids over that center console for a good solid minute. In that moment I was only aware of his breath shuddering in his chest, the increasing weight as he settled into my shoulder just like my own sons, and the slightest taste of the immense loss this young man was trying so mightily to grapple with. As we separated he wiped his eyes and said “I feel like I can say this to you. I lost my dad a few years back, and ever since this happened I’ve been wishing I could talk to him about it. Tell him about it. I’m not saying it’s real or anything, I don’t believe in ghosts, but talking about it with you I felt like I was talking about with him. He would’ve hugged me just that same way.”

I’m still processing all this. I’m sure there is much for me to learn from it. The first and most obvious lesson to me is “Great opportunities to help others seldom come, and small ones surround us every day.” Be kind. Be interested. Be caring. Be love.