A Birthday Story

Today is my birthday!

This story has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that today is my birthday but it is such an oddity during these difficult and bizarre times, that I am accepting it as a gift. Let's call it a birthday phenomenon. 

This morning, The Husband and I were attempting to install some extra shelving in our kitchen. (Yes, I realize that birthday celebrations in the time of Omicron have taken on a whole new level of excitement.) His phone rang during this wild time and since he was busy and didn't recognize the number, he chose to let the call go straight to voicemail. When he finally did retrieve the message, he discovered that it was from somebody who works at Benjamin's Funeral Home. Now before I continue, for those of you who are not from Toronto, Benjamin's is one of two Jewish funeral homes in the city. The woman was quick to point out that this was not a call of condolence or sadness but that she did hope that The Husband would return her call at his earliest convenience, which he did.

It seems that Benjamin's received an odd call this morning that had to do with The Husband's dad (z"l). He passed away almost seven years ago, so even the people at Benjamin's were a bit surprised by the request. The caller identified himself as a former client of my late father-in-law's and was anxious to get in touch with a member of his family. He knew that he had died but hadn't found out at the time as they had lost touch. When he finally did learn of his death, he tried to call his former legal office which had, of course, been closed and disbanded. He was about to give up when a Jewish friend suggested that he contact Benjamin's or Steeles Memorial and see if they could help. Benjamin's wasn't about to give out any contact information to a random caller but they did offer to act as a go-between and thus they made the call this morning to The Husband. They had next to no information about the caller other than his name and phone number and left it up to The Husband if he wanted to make the connection.

I tend to be suspicious and overly cautious these days. (Damn it, I really wish I wasn't) I made The Husband block his number before he called Surinder so that the Caller ID couldn't track it. Unfortunately, this is the world we live in right now. After a few formalities, both The Husband and Surinder were eager to verify the other's identity. There was no question that both were who they said they were and knew things that only someone acquainted with my father-in-law (z"l) could have known. It turns out that Surinder was indeed a former legal client of The Husband's dad and had been for over thirty years. He was anxious to touch base with The Husband's mom and was saddened to learn that she died last year. He went on and on for about ten minutes about what a wonderfully gracious man Dad was and how he took such great care of him both professionally and personally. He regaled The Husband with stories about how his dad was forever talking about his family and how proud he was of his children. As I could only hear one side of the conversation, I was struck by how choked up The Husband got and how moved he was by the effort to reach out.

But wait...there's more!

Surinder very much wanted to make a donation of $1000.00 to a charity of The Husband's choice in memory of his dad and wanted to know if The Husband had any suggestions. He was crying a bit at this point and suggested The PSP Society of Canada which is the truly horrible disease that claimed the lives of both his dad and his paternal aunt. (I am providing a hyperlink to their website in case somebody reading this might want to send a donation.) He asked The Husband if he would text him the information and he would take care of it today. 

These past two years have been filled with constant sadness and pain. We all have tended to wallow in the morass and I think it is possible that the goodness that is out there has been somewhat blurred. Surinder could have very easily made that donation in memory of my father-in-law without reaching out. He could have salved his own conscience easily with a credit card but he made the effort today, seven years later, to let my husband know something special about his dad. I don't think I could have asked for a better birthday present.