Full Tank, Full Heart
A small act of kindness that started with my grandpa and found its way to my daughter’s best friend
I passed along a tradition from my grandpa the other night and it felt great.
He died in 2007, six months after my Alzheimer’s cruelly took his wife.
I’ll remember the way he cared for her for the rest of my life. I think that once she passed, his work was done. He’d given everything he had to make sure the love his life was cared for in her most vulnerable years.
It was tragically beautiful.
My dad was in the military so we moved a lot and never lived close to them. When I got my first car, I’d go down to visit them a few times a year. I was a dirt poor pizza delivery guy who could barely pay my bills.
Grandad knew that and he never once told me to figure out what I was doing with my life. Instead, before I left for home, he’d say, “Why don’t we go for a drive and see how that car of yours is running?” It always meant, even though it was never spoken, that he was going to fill up my gas tank for me.
I loved the ritual. I loved the time together. And I definitely loved the free gas.
Fast forward twenty-five years to Friday night. I was having lunch with my daughter Chloe’s best friend, Kyla. Chloe died almost three years ago and since then my wife and I have become mentors to Kyla.
It’s one of the gifts that’s come from Chloe’s death.
Kyla’s had a rough life and is working so damn hard to better herself. She has every excuse in the world to be angry and resentful. Instead, she’s kind, caring and committed to making a positive impact in the world.
I often wonder where I might be if I’d faced similar circumstances. Face down in a ditch somewhere seems like the most likely outcome.
I took her for dinner the other night and we talked about life, love, future plans etc. I normally drive but this time, I told her to pick me up. We even had a FaceTime with her boyfriend who seems like a nice young man.
At the end of dinner, I said, “How much gas is in that car of yours?”
She looked at me sheepishly, “It’s totally empty.”
“Well, good lord. We can’t have you driving around on an empty tank, can we?”
I took her to fill up her car, and she wasn’t kidding when she said it was empty.
She was so thankful when I got back in the car. And I felt grateful that I could help her in this small way. It reminded me something I sent to Chloe about a week before she died.
Plus, it gave me a chance to tell Kyla about my Grandpa, and our ritual, all these years later. It’s so nice to carry our little tradition forward to someone I care about.
Thank you for the lesson Grandad.
You did a wonderful thing! Pay forward!. Mt mother was a very giving person, to a fault really because everybody took from her and nobody gave her anything in return. My heart was breaking as I try to tell her that she was being exploited but she was in such denial that she wouldn't listen. It was too painful for her to see the truth. My mother is my heroine. She hardly had anything but she would give, even food that she needed. So a few weeks ago, a lady with some luggage came in the coffee shop where I was. People stared at her but nobody offered a smile or a simple greeting. Not wanting to invade her privacy, I waited some time and I went to say hello. She was lonely and I could tell that she was homeless. I asked her if she wanted a coffee and a big smile greeted me. We talked for some time and I was amazed by her sense of humor and her kindness. She offered words of encouragement as if she knew that I was going thriugh some difficult times myself. I shall never forget her as she showed more kindness than the people who surrounded her. What an example of th indominable human spirit. Let's pass along what what given to us. That's what you did.
I love that beautiful act of kindness. It has so much more depth and meaningfulness than just handing them some money for gasoline. It is a tradition they WILL remember and can pass along somday. Thank you for sharing your story! :)