Timely connections

By Lynne Hughes, Founder and CEO, Comfort Zone Camp
 
Has someone ever crossed your path right when you need them? Or have you ever crossed someone else’s path to tell them something that they needed to hear at that very moment?
 
Since founding Comfort Zone Camp I have met so many amazing people and I have had a lot of ”fairy dust” moments. I can’t tell you about countless times when I have met someone new, know nothing about them, only to find out that they had a loss as a child and completely embrace the mission of Comfort Zone.
 

Yesterday I went to Tarrytown, NY to give a speech to a group of New York Life (NYL) agents. After surviving and harrowing flight on a prop plane to get there (never again!), I was picked up by a car service and was taken to the hotel to give my speech. I was feeling really queasy from the bumpy flight and was having a hard time talking. The driver asked me who I was speaking to, and what my speech was about. I told him I was speaking on the importance of life insurance and how life insurance agents need to help take care of the grieving children of tomorrow because you never know when the unspeakable is going to happen.
 
Now picture Arthur Stiller driving (George’s dad on Seinfeld): he tells me, “Boy, I hear you on that one. My wife died when my kids were 9 and 12.”
 
I tell him my parents died when I was 9 and 12, which is why I started Comfort Zone and became connected with NYL. We had a lovely chat, and I finally stopped feeling nauseous. I think our unexpected connection helped calm me.
 
I got to the hotel and gave my speech. Afterwards, a long line of lovely agents lined up to individually tell me their stories of loss. One man who is in his late 50s was a little teary. He tells me he is so touched by my talk. His mother died when he was 5, and he really identified with my story. I squeezed his hand and he said, “What made it really special was that today is her birthday.” I am moved.
 
The next guy in line is from Long Island. He tells me of his best friend dying in a construction accident in New York City, leaving his wife and three kids. His friends’ kids are having a tough time—especially the oldest boy, who is 13. He tells me my speach is coming at a real critical juncture for the family, because the mom is desperate for resources. I am touched once again. Then he adds that my speech was extra special because “today is the 13-year-old’s birthday.”
 
Before returning home from New York today, I went to breakfast with the agents. Afterwards they all left to attend today’s meetings. One young guy comes in late. He said it was okay because no one is going to fire him. We laugh. He sat down; we are the only two in the room. He tells me he tried to hold it together during my speech, but he lost it. His brother died from a drug overdose when he was 17. He has set up a foundation and does a lot of wonderful work in his brother’s name to keep his legacy alive. We talked about loss and its lifelong impact. We talked about him coming to camp and what a wonderful volunteer he would be. I tell him he could even sponsor a child in his brother’s name. 
 
These multiple unexpected connections in two days did so much to remind me of why it is so important that we do what we do, and how great of a need there is out there. It made today’s prop plane back home much more bearable, as I am once again reminded that the right people cross your path just when you need them to.