It was the day we buried my dad.
My uncle Dave was struggling to cope.
They had been particularly close,
And like my dad, Dave, too, was an alcoholic.

Dave’s disease always kept him at a certain distance.
Each holiday he would be too sick to visit.
I knew him no better than a stranger.

Then standing in front of the grave,
Dave broke down on his knees, sobbing.

Never before, or since,
Had I seen someone so completely and absolutely
Alone.

Everyone felt sorry.
But the most they would offer
Were sympathetic glances.

Suddenly Emily, my cousin,
A young and quiet girl,
Abruptly pushed her way through the crowd,
She walked right up to Dave
Gently guided him onto his feet
And embraced him.

Everyone was astonished.
It may be seemingly insignificant,
But to me, it was the most beautiful thing
I’d ever seen.

I wish I could tell you Dave quit drinking.
That his disease didn’t tear his family apart.
That his wife didn’t cheat on him.
That this Easter he wasn’t too sick to visit.

But we must learn to remember
Not the painful memories
But the random acts of kindness