Ann Ferro: Kind words live on

As time goes by, you are in so many ways, the changed by of all of your relationships, some that are beneficial, some that are less so. And there are relationships that are fleeting – a breeze that caught your attention on a warm day. Then it was a call from a cell phone that kept dropping off so that the conversation had many twists and turns trying to reconnect. It lasted no more than 10 minutes.
It was a few weeks ago that an anxious me had been referred to an attorney for some specialized legal advice. The secretary in the office gave my name and number to the gentleman in question and he contacted me while he was on the road. I’m fairly sure that someone else was driving. In any case, I outlined the reason for my referral and he responded with pointed queries. We went back and forth question and answer several times as the cell reception was lost and regained and I had to contact his office to reconnect. It was a bit complicated but that’s how the 10 or so minutes played out.
The conversation was professional but warm and friendly, the attorney pointing out that my situation was not one to cause me any concern. Basically, it was “Go in peace” advice.
Now, being who I am, I always like to know something personal about people with whom I interact. I made note of the fact that he began law school at Syracuse University the same year that I graduated from SU. (I had googled him prior to calling his office) He laughed a deep throaty chuckle and said that we were of the same vintage, perhaps looking at the world a bit differently than others.
I thanked him for his time and asked how I could compensate him. He laughed again, and said there was “no charge for someone as ancient as he was.”
“How about some cookies … homemade cookies,” I asked. You could almost hear him smile. He agreed to accept my offer and I promised to bring him a dozen or so next week. It was the least I could do for someone who had made my day so much better.
My intent was to make the cookies over the weekend and then deliver them on Monday, but life got in the way and I put off making the cookies until late on Thursday night. I wasn’t feeling well at all that evening, but a promise is a promise. On Friday, I packed up some ricotta cheese dainties and headed to Fayetteville, thinking that a week had passed since our conversation and the attorney might have forgotten my offer.
I rang the bell and met one of the administrative assistants who, when I explained why I was there, called another gal to join us in the hall.
I again explained about my promise, when one of the women touched my hand and said, “He passed last night.”
Nothing could have surprised me more. Sure, I know that, at my age, dying is not a surprise, but it only seemed right that so generous a soul who would spend even a few moments with a complete stranger, assuaging her anxiety that he should receive some kind of … what can I call it? Compensation? Payment? Good karma? … I don’t know.
“Please eat the cookies in his honor” I said to the women, unexpected tears breaking the words.
And so, this graduate of the Wharton School of Business and the Syracuse University School of law, who practiced that law for 57 years and led a good and productive life, left someone to remember him who never even saw his face. He remains anonymous here because there have been no public notices of his passing and I suspect that may be just as he wished.
He never got to taste the cookies. I hope that intention counts for something. I have kept him in my prayers and, with this column, have now shared a few thoughts about his kindness in a sometimes not-so-kind modern world.
Requiescat in pace advocatus.