I decided I am going to try to write more often and whenever the urge strikes, even if it isn't directly related to you.

First of all, I am making a promise to myself. Recently a few friends had birthdays. They are friends that I don't get to see all that often, and I mostly keep up with them via email or Facebook. When their birthdays came, I noticed that it was their birthdays because of Facebook and posted a happy birthday message. This last week I have been thinking a lot about that and I hereby promise to myself to call my friends (not all my Facebook "friends", the people I haven't really thought about since h.s. or college) to chat with them, or at least to leave them a message telling them happy birthday. It's important, it matters to people who love you to hear your voice, and I am embarrassed that I even lost sight of that for a moment.

Second, okay, where do I start? A few weeks ago Grandpa Glen and you and I were taking a nice long walk. As we were walking, we came across a few kids who were playing in front of an apartment complex. One of the kids, a girl, about 6 or 7 apparently got hurt, because she was sobbing pretty loudly. It really hit me in the chest being a mommy and all. At first I wanted to go over to her and ask if she was okay and could I help her get home. But then I thought if I did that, it would probably freak her out and she would think I was trying to abduct her and she'd get more upset than she already was and that her friends would probably take her home or help her feel better. And then I kept walking as I heard her wailing. It haunts me. I am sure she was fine, she probably scraped her knee or something. But how could I, a mother, who was with my child (so, probably not threatening at all) walk away from another child who was clearly in pain. I vowed to myself that night that I would never do that again. And not a day has gone by that I haven't thought of that mistake I made.

So last night I was driving home from work and while I was at a red light I looked over and saw an old man sitting on the sidewalk. At first I thought he was some homeless guy. It wasn't that cold, and it was near where New Hampshire Ave. hits Georgia Ave., so it wouldn't be odd at all for a homeless guy to be sitting there. But then I looked closer. His hand were all bloody and his face was too. And he had a very distant blank look on his face. There was no one near him. So I knew I had to pull over. I rolled down my window and asked if he needed help. He asked if I had a tissue. I told him I didn't, but that I had tissue paper (leftover from a baby shower gift), so I got out of the car, grabbed the paper from the back seat and ran over to him. He dabbed himself. I asked if I could help him get up. He said yes, thank you. I picked up his bags (he had a bag of record albums and a wooden rabbit), and offered my hand to him. That was when he slumped back down to the ground and moaned and said he thought his arm was broken. I told him I thought he should go to the hospital, that I wanted to call 911. He thought about it for a moment and agreed. So I called. I waited with him, I chatted with him to try to get his mind off of things. I dabbed blood off of him, and kind of dabbed off a big chunk of bloody skin from going into his eyes. He was pretty sure he had tripped on a crack in the sidewalk. Then the paramedics came. I made sure they got him on the stretcher and that they grabbed his stuff, and they wheeled him off into the ambulance. I never asked him his name. I didn't offer to go to the hospital with him to keep him company. I wish that I had asked him if there was anyone I could call to let them know where he was (he didn't have a cell phone). In a weird way I think I had assumed this man was alone. Maybe he was. Or maybe I assumed it because he was old. And I keep thinking, he was once someone's little boy and now he is this sad old man who fell down on the sidewalk while he was walking home. How sad. It makes me sad because as much as I want you to know that I am here for you, I won't always be, and you will be old one day yourself. I can't assume that the man made any bad choices in his life, he might have and he might have not, but I hope that I give you all the foundation you need to be certain you are loved and cared for throughout your entire life. And I will never walk by or drive by a person in need again. And from now on I will ask them if they want me to call/find someone in their lives. And I hope that if I or you or anyone we know is ever in need of help, that someone will stop and at the very least help us, even if it is just by dialing 911. It's not heroic, or even extraordinary, it's the most basic thing a person can do, and yet many don't these days. I will no longer be that person.