Months after my 21-year-old son Robbie died, I received a sympathy card from a distant friend explaining she hadn’t known what to say but could no longer be silent. I thanked her, said I was still grieving, and her card didn’t feel late at all.
Many years ago on a birdwatching trip, I met a very impressive woman. We traded a few letters then fell out of touch. When Dede found me on Facebook four years ago, we discovered how each of us had influenced the other and this time, we’ve maintained our connection.
Shortly after my mom died in 2021, a professional colleague slipped a gift onto my porch table. When I opened the door heading for my car, I found a beautifully wrapped bottle of fine wine and a card. This memory always warms me.
After her divorce, I visited my Florida-based friend Jackie numerous times to lend companionship and support, gifting her with a toolbox she still uses. One year, I couldn’t afford my visit, so she bought a roundtrip ticket so we could continue our get togethers. We are still close friends.
In the mid 90’s one of my besties was diagnosed with cancer. She lived in LA. I was in Michigan, determined to support her. For two years, I showered Mimi with constant attention, calls, gifts, surprises and more, visiting when I could.
The last year we attended the Maui Writers Conference together, Mimi booked us a room in a fabulous hotel in Hana, plus dinner at Ruth’s Chris Steak House. I revisit this extravagant birthday gift often. Today she is well and happy, and yes, we stay in touch.
Last year I encouraged a friend to start writing a book about the devastating loss of her son and she did. When Susan found out I’d been ill, she asked what she could do. I blurted, “Your pecan fudge is amazing—I’d love a few pieces the next time you make it.” Three days later she delivered an entire batch!
These are some of the kindnesses I’ve been privileged to receive. As for family, I’m eternally grateful to my daughter and granddaughters for their ongoing love and support. Kindness has a long shelf life. Hold onto it dearly so it’s there when you want to give it out.
© 2026. Leslie Charles, Speech Coach, Speaker, Author, Funeral-Life Celebrant. leslie@lesliecharles.com