As the years continue to pass, there are moments, while brief, that have left a lasting impression. As I sit here today, I can't help but think about Sam; while he might be unaware, he gifted me a small gesture of hope amid chaos. It takes just one random act of kindness to make all the difference for someone going through a difficult time. Sam was that person for me, one random act of kindness and a calming presence that I continue to think back on. 

When you lose someone you love, your world is shattered and flipped upside down. Everything that once had meaning suddenly doesn't. Anger becomes a layer of protection to somehow protect yourself from feeling the immense pain you were given to endure. Something you use as a distraction suddenly becomes an obsession that brings some peace. Weaving flowers through a fence in the hot sun was my obsession. The chaos that became my life would settle down briefly as flowers would arrive and needed a place on the fence. 

One morning, as I was outside, focused on the fence, a truck slowed down behind me. I hesitated to turn around as I had told a reporter to stay away from me earlier that morning, which is putting it nicely. A calming, soft voice asked, "May I ask what the flowers are for?" I turned slowly and looked up as a man genuinely looked as if he hadn't heard what had happened. I bluntly told the man that my husband murdered our two children before taking his own life, and in the evenings, we gathered in front of the fence, turned on lights, and shared memories. I continued to say he was more than welcome to join. Surprisingly, the man said he would return later in the evening. The truck drove off, and I returned my focus to the fence.

Evening came, and the lights were turned on, which lit up the fence, highlighting all the flowers on it. As the evening progressed, a dozen close friends and family gathered to share memories and comfort one another. In the distance, I noticed a well-dressed man walking toward us with a rose. It was the man in the truck from earlier in the day. He walked over to the fence, placed the rose in front of it, and then came and sat next to me. There was something about his presence that offered unspoken comfort. The man listened to the shared memories, and somehow, he felt like part of our tight-knit group of friends and family, even though I had never met him before.

As the night ended, the man took something out of his pocket and turned to me. He placed a beaded necklace in my hands and said his son had made it for him as a Father's Day gift. It was a Buddhist prayer necklace, and he wanted me to have it. I told him I couldn't take it, and he continued to say that he mentioned what had happened to my children to his son and that his son wanted me to have it. As a tear rolled down my face, I leaned over, hugged the man, and said thank you. Sam shared that his son was the same age as my daughter. We parted ways that night with a hug and one last thank you.

During those early days, I felt alone even though I was surrounded by many, and it's hard to explain the loneliness you feel when you lose someone you love. It's a longing for something unattainable. For a moment, I didn't feel completely alone when Sam sat next to me that evening. We didn't speak much, and towards the end of the night, I only knew his name and that he had a son the same age as my daughter, but he was a sense of calm that I needed. I still have the neckless and lasting impression attached to it, and even though I never saw Sam again, I hope to return the neckless to him one day. Maybe wishful thinking on my part, but it would make our meeting come full circle all these years later. I am always amazed by how the universe brings the right people into your life at the right time, even if it is just for a brief moment. 

-C