Random Act of Kindness can be Memorials to Your Loved One

The email message on my computer screen was from a couple who were members of my church. It asked recipients to get involved in random acts of kindness as memorials to their deceased daughter. Their daughter died of cancer a year ago and I was touched by the thoughtfulness behind message. “I will be glad to remember her with a random act of kindness,” I replied.

What would my random of act of kindness be?

Several ideas came to mind -- donating to the local food bank in memory of their daughter and donating books to the public library. Then my mind went down a different pathway. I’ve been a freelance writer for more than 36 years. In 2007 four family members, my elder daughter, my father-in-law, my brother, and my former son-in-law, all died. These multiple losses changed the focus of my writing from health to grief recovery.

Because of my experience I had some understanding of the thinking behind the random acts of kindness suggestion. Though the searing pain of multiple losses has lessened, I feel anticipatory grief for my disabled husband. His aorta dissected in October of 2013 and he has been hospitalized ever since. Surgeons operated on him three times in a desperate attempt to save his life. During the third operation, 13 hours of invasive surgery, he suffered a spinal stroke and his legs are paralyzed.

After three and a half months in the hospital, most of it in intensive care, he was transferred to  the rehabilitation floor of a local nursing home for wound care and physical therapy.

The rehabilitation unit holds 14 patients and they come and go. Family members come and go as well. I decided to give a couple a copy of my latest book as a random act of kindness. Whether or not they read the book is up to them. When I walked onto the floor I spotted the couple at a nearby table. The patient was a retired minister who was without a left foot, amputated due to severe diabetes. The minister had talked to me several times about the fear he felt before surgery.

“To lose your foot . . . “ he would begin, shaking his head. He never added more words to this sentence.

His wife, a church organist, visited him often and was as loving and supportive as any wife could be. On this day she was eating lunch with him. I approached the couple, placed the book on the table, and said, “I’m giving you my book as a random act of kindness in memory of a church member who died.” The reverend picked up the book and stared at the cover.

“You wrote this?” he asked.

“Yes,” I replied. “And I hope you will look at it.”

“Oh I will,” he promised.

The couple seemed touched at my gesture. Giving them one of my books made me feel good. This experience has taught me the power of a random act of kindness. If you are approaching the anniversary of a loved one’s death, you may wish to ask friends to remember him or her with random acts of kindness. Random acts of kindness can have a ripple effect in the family and in the community. More important, these acts remind us that love lasts forever.