There comes a Point

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During the course of my life I have had the opportunity to impact the lives of many and that continues most every day. From my immediate family, to my friends, my co-workers, and people that I've met during the course of my profession, I've attempted to help wherever possible. And seeing those people sometimes many years after meeting them, it seems that I've had positive results from many of my contacts. I'm not so arrogant to say that I saved the world, but I do think I've made it a better place, at least for some.

To see my daughters, each maturing into responsible and respected persons in their community, makes me proud. To receive a thank you note years after arresting a youth involved in a theft, who rose up to get a college education and become a respected nurse in her community, makes me proud. To have orchestrated an intervention for an alcoholic co-worker who now has 20 years of sobriety makes me proud. To learn that a man used me for a job reference like I offered four years before when I talked to him about his drug use, make me proud.

But not all of my endeavors were successful. Like the lady that I met after she had been beaten and threatened with death by her husband that I couldn't convince to to leave her home, at least temporarily, even offering to give her a place to stay. The same lady that I later found dead in her living room on my next call there. Like a school friend that I talked to about using hashish that later died driving drunk.

Now, I know I am not one who comes across to most people as an especially compassionate person. Just as I don't come across as a happy person, filled with jokes and laughter. But, for a few that know me, they have seen the real me.

But here's where I might fall short. I am sympathetic to those that are in need, and I try to give assistance. But when they refuse to heed my help, there comes a point in time when I draw the line. Those that I once was sympathetic to, become pathetic to me.

Does that make sense? It's like after I give it my best, and that is rejected, I stop trying. And, at that time, I couldn't care less about the person I was trying to assist. If the person fails at the job I found for him, or goes right back to the state that I found him in, or dies of an overdose, I wouldn't care.

Sympathetic or pathetic. I'll be there at the Thought Dock.
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