“Kindness in the Cracks”

Before I left Indiana, I had hoped to take the PTCB exam — the national certification for Pharmacy Technicians. If I passed, it would have opened doors for me to work anywhere in the U.S.

I already registered it. But… I never made it.
The emotional weight of my collapsing marriage was too much.
I couldn’t study, I couldn’t focus — I could barely breathe.
So I let that dream go.
For now.

After leaving Indiana with a broken heart, I stayed with my mom’s relatives in Las Vegas and California for about two weeks.
They had gathered especially to support me. They hugged me, smiled at me, lifted me up.
And I remember thinking: Wow… thank you.
After everything, this felt like an oasis in the middle of a scorching desert.

They took me on little trips — to Beverly Hills, Hollywood, Stockton, Disneyland, Santa Monica Beach, San Francisco, and through some of the stunning hotel-casinos in Las Vegas.
It was beautiful. For a moment, I could breathe again.
Their kindness was a balm to my wounds, and I was deeply, deeply grateful.

And you know what?
The kindness of strangers also found me — in the most unexpected places.

At the airport heading to San Francisco, I ran into trouble at the check-in counter.
My credit card was declined. I stood there, flustered, stressed, and ready to cry.
Then, a man — a complete stranger — stepped forward and offered to help.
He used his card to help me get through the check-in process.

OMG. I will never forget that.

Then, on the plane, it happened again.
I hadn’t eaten lunch. I was too anxious, too overwhelmed.
When I finally tried to buy something to eat, my card failed me again.
But the flight attendant came over with a smile and said,
“Your meal has already been paid for… by the lady behind you.”

Tears welled up in my eyes.
For real? I was not even asked anybody to help me.
Thank you.
Thank you, wherever you are.

In the background of all this, my heart was aching for my dad in Indonesia.
His lung condition wasn’t getting better. He kept moving from one hospital to another.
Eventually, a doctor recommended a CT scan. I could feel the urgency in his voice when we spoke.

And then…
The day came.
I boarded a plane bound for Indonesia — carrying with me more pain than words could ever express.
My body was flying home.
But my heart was heavy, raw, and damaged beyond measure.

……………………………….

This story is a part of my personal journey. Please do not copy or reproduce any part of it without permission. Sharing is welcome with proper credit and a link to this blog