The Unintentional Intervention (Take 2)

First things first, we had a really fun birthday dinner last night. Munchkin wanted sushi, which is interesting because she doesn't really east sushi...at least not the raw fish part. Me, her, Big Sis, Smoking Hot Roommate and Papa Bear went to a place in Coolidge Corner which qualifies as Munchkin's favorite sushi restaurant. Then we came home and had cake:-) Yum!!!

She is having a real party with her friends on Saturday...bowling and pizza and more cake:-) And as far as I know, she still has no idea that her brother is coming, which will make for a really nice suprise for her. I will do my best not to take his girlfriend out, get her absurdly drunk and bring her to any strippies this time...

Papa Bear actually came over to my cube kinda sheepishly yesterday afternoon and asked "Am I invited to birthday dinner?" Kinda cute...he can make Chief Executive Officers get the shakes by looking at them funny, but he wanted to make sure he wasn't left out of the birthday dinner:-)

Now...on to the real business of the day...here is the random story I promised from last Saturday and titled on Sunday.

It involves another close friend I grew up with. He wasn't part of the super tight BFFs-Sam-AM group, but he was a pretty good friend, and a guy I always liked. Well, like a lot of people that I knew, he became a drug user (crack was his real downfall, but not the only one.)

He was never a really close friend, so I didn't really see him or talk to him much, but I saw him whenever I was home in Chicago during college. The last time was right at the end of spring break of my senior year (2005) and frankly, he was a mess. I saw him at a party and he was just being a complete drugged up, useless mess. Shortly after that, BFFg told me that he checked himself into a detox facility, which I thought was probably a good idea, but then I never heard from him or about him again. So, imagine my surprise when he called me Friday.

He called because it was his two year sobriety anniversary, and he wanted to tell me that I had helped him a lot. Honestly, I don't remember this at all, but apparently at that party he said something about hanging out when I came home again, and I told him "I'm not hanging out with you. You're a fucking junky, and I don't wanna be friends with any junkies." Like I said, I don't actually remember this, and given his state of mind, it may have never happened...but it sounds like something I might say...lol.

Anyway, he said that for whatever reason, that was the one thing that anyone ever said to him that really stuck in his head and made him go to and stay in rehab. And now it has been two years and he is happy, healthy and has a pretty good job as an electrician's apprentice that he likes a lot. So, I felt really good after that.

I guess I feel kinda sheepish taking credit for something that very likely never happened, but it always feels good when someone tells you that you helped them. And even if I never actually said that, if he somehow turned me into a mental motivational speech, well then that makes me feel good, too.

It is sort of weird when you think of it. There were probably 25 people at this party. For 24 of them, it was a completely random, totally non-noteworthy evening of drinking and hanging out. But for one of the 25, it turned out to be the single most important moment of his life...the absolute bottom from which everything got better subsequently.

I guess the lesson is to always treat your interactions with people as if they are worth every ounce of your attention. You never know when the other person could be at a major turning point, and they deserve 100% of what you can give them.

We can call that a "Thought for the day"