Wednesday, September 15, 2010

My naivete

I have, what is now, an amusing postscript to my last post: An unusual beginning.

While in New York for the conference I mentioned, in 1998, my sister, Christine, drove in from Doylestown, Pennsylvania, where she lived, to see me.

She picked me up at the conference hotel in Gramercy Park, we spent the day together driving to Long Island, and she was then to drop me off at my new, online friend, Shelly's, in Rego Park, Queens, at day's end. I was excited to finally meet Shelly.

When Christine learned I was staying with a person I had met online, but didn't really know, she was flabbergasted at my nerve. Or naivete (a polite word for stupidity), as she probably viewed it.

So we worked out a plan. She would drive me there to "check out the place" and meet Shelly, allowing me to stay only if she approved and felt I was safe. I reluctantly agreed, but trusted her judgment. It wasn't the first time her intuition was right on.

We developed a signal. She would call me after she pulled away, but hadn't gone too far. She would ask if I felt okay to stay, or should she return to get me? If I didn't answer her questions, she was turning the car around to head back. If all was well, I would thank her again for spending the day with me.

Moments after I was dropped off, and we had both met Shelly, the phone rang, as promised.

"Thanks again for spending the day with me," I said, on cue. I happily assured my sister I was fine. Shelly had prepared a wonderful dinner for me, and we were busy making plans for our next few days together.

Later, I thanked her for her loving concern. She was there for me if the situation had turned out different.

No matter how smart and assured we think we are sometimes, it is always good to have someone watching out for you when your thinking is clear only to you.
My sister, Christine, the marathon runner
If that happens to be your sister, you are so blessed!