Sometimes, a thank you is not enough. Being able to look back with a little clearer mind in recent days, I do not believe those two words carry enough weight to accurately express my gratitude.

 

As many of you know who read this blog, my mother, Nancy Toquinto Holt, passed away on June 19. Many may not know is that less than 24 hours later, my niece, my mother’s granddaughter Nina Alonso, passed away as well.

 

In a world wrought with potholes and obstacles, the biggest came at the passing of my mother; exposing me to a level of grief I did not know could exist and one that has only dulled as opposed to subside. I am certain it is one I will carry with me the rest of my days.

 

Yet, the next day, a different kind of grief joined in. The overwhelming sadness was joined by a head-to-toe numbness when learning my sister’s daughter was gone at the age of 23. She was light in an often-dark world, kindness in a mean-spirited place we call home, and gentleness in a time when being brutal is considered proper etiquette by far too many.

 

As I have noted also in this blog, I battle anxiety and depression and have for essentially my entire life. The passing of two loved ones had placed me in a place where I was not sure how to get out of the battle in any type of coherent matter.

 

To be honest, I am not back. I struggle mightily in mornings to nearly the afternoon hours. I am more tired than usual, and I have to force myself to do just about anything – but I am trying. To be quite honest, I do not know how I would have gotten to this point without something I have never seen before in my 57 years on this planet.

 

During the deepest level of despair, I was lifted up by levels of kindness from friends and family – and to me they are one in the same – the likes of which I cannot explain, and quite frankly, do not know if I even deserve. The kindness enveloped me, it hugged me, it gave me a shoulder, and it took on a living presence that breathed a level of hope into my soul and is still there at this minute.

 

Standing by a casket twice in the last two weeks and speaking to hundreds of individuals was not on my, or anyone else’s, bucket list. But I was there. The line of people never seemed to end. The hugs, the reassurances, the stories, the shared tears, and words so deeply impactful from those closest to me and many I did not know provided a damaged man who had been brought to his knees a rope to get up.

 

Please know I read all of the texts sent to me. I listened to all of the voicemails. I saw the comments on countless posts on Facebook. I read the personal messages on Facebook Messenger. I opened the cards that arrived. I took the phone calls, including some from folks checking on me almost daily. I saw the food and drinks that were served at the funeral home and at my own home. I saw those simply sitting there in case I needed them or anyone else in my family needed them.

 

It was humbling. I feel fairly confident in saying that as deeply hurt as many members of my family still are at this moment at the loss of my mother and my sweet niece Nina, the overwhelming love proved to be stitches on a deeply emotional wound.

 

The outpouring, I believe, was the result of something my mother and niece did for one extended life and one far too short life. They were kind. And in these last two weeks, that kindness was repaid to honor their lives and prop up many broken spirits in need of any level of healing.

 

Thank you just is not enough.

 

I can say this. After being at the receiving end of so much love and caring, I have determined I can do better in my own life. And, I think my mother would agree, we all can do better.

 

Be kind. Whether it is in person, on the phone or in the occasional cesspool that is social media, be kind. If you do not need to belittle, insult, degrade, or tear down someone of something – and generally speaking it is rare that you need to – simply do not do it.

 

Just be kind. You may make someone’s life better. How do I know? Your kindness made mine better when I needed it most. And trust me, you may also save someone’s life.

 

Thank you is not enough. But thank God for all of you, and for your kindness.

 

Editor's Note: Photo shows the author's mother holding her granddaughter, and his niece Nina, after being discharged from the hospital being born weighing roughly one pound.