Repaying a Karmic Debt
A guest post
On the first Saturday of the month, the RD offers a story about the ways people, often strangers, show up for each other. Your feedback has reminded me all of us have these stories—times when we’ve felt abundant or wanted to and so have stepped in to give and meet a need, as well as moments when we’ve been flailing and, whether able to ask for help or not, had someone step up to buoy us. I wanted to collect these stories alongside my own. So, I asked participants in my BYOE workshops to be the first to share their stories of asking or giving here.
I’m thrilled to present
, a fellow road lifer and writer, and her story, “Repaying a Karmic Debt,” as the first guest contributor to this collection. On Seasons of the Soul, Deb shares her journeys on the road as a snowbird, honors people who’ve impacted her life in pieces like “The Best Jewish Mother a Baby Dyke Could Have,” and highlights those she meets along the way—most recently 100-year-old Lois.I’m including her intro because I love it and am grateful for it. Here’s Deb.
On the Rolling Desk, Holly Starley publishes stories monthly on the ways people, often strangers, show up for each other. I watched one of her workshops on developing our writing through different draft stages and learned about the opportunity to share a story on Rolling Desk. I thought back to a 2010 incident I had documented on Facebook and wrote this piece.
At a solo writing retreat a week later, I realized this bone drenching experience would begin a cascade of events changing my life forever. An expanded version of this piece became the first chapter of my memoir.
Thank you, Holly Starley, for your Ask and Give invitation which gave my six-year memoir odyssey structure. I finally wrote “The End.”
Repaying a Karmic Debt
In January 2010, I flew to San Diego to visit family and friends. I was thrilled to escape the Michigan winter and had forgotten January was California’s rainy season. But how rainy could it be?
After the plane landed, I grabbed my suitcase from baggage claim and headed to the car rental shuttle line amid a torrential downpour. No umbrella. No raincoat. No shelter. By the time the shuttle arrived 10 minutes later, my clothes were drenched, and my bones felt the weight of the water.
Once I got to the car rental counter, a distraught young woman next to me was trying to rent a car. I couldn’t help but overhear their conversation.
“No, I don’t have the card my boyfriend made the reservation with. He’s a Marine. Stationed in Iraq.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Ashley, if you don’t have the card the reservation is under, I can’t help you.”
“He’s returning to Camp Pendleton after his deployment. I’m supposed to meet him in Oceanside. He said he’d make it easy for me. He made all my reservations from there.”
“I’m so sorry Miss. If you have a credit card and you’re 25, we can make a reservation under your name.”
“I have a card, but I’m not 25,” Ashley said.
The young Marine’s girlfriend was starting to panic, her voice shaking. “I just flew here from Missouri. I don’t know anyone in the area. Or even where Oceanside is. He said he’d take care of everything.”
I recognized her helplessness and panic, the same feelings I’d felt 34 years earlier. Memories came flooding back.
In 1976 as a young Private First Class fresh out of Military Police School, the Marine Corps sent me to Camp Pendleton, my first duty station, via LAX. The Greyhound bus dropped me in downtown Oceanside with no instructions on how to get to my command on the sprawling 125,000-acre base hugging the Pacific coast.
There I was...21 years old, dressed in heels and my summer seersucker Class A uniform a LONG way from my small-town North Dakota home. I was lugging a packed seabag plus a large suitcase. I was lost in a sea of California humanity, which were mostly young Marines on liberty with places to go and things to do.
Just then, a sporty red car pulled up and out jumped a slim pony-tailed female. “Where are you headed, Marine?”
After I told her my situation, she motioned to her boyfriend to pop the trunk. She turned and said, "Don't worry, I'm stationed at the MP Battalion. We'll take you right where you need to go".
They checked me in and delivered me to my new barracks. I felt an incredible sense of relief and I NEVER forgot their kindness.
Remembering my Oceanside seabag drag and the kindness that had been offered me decades years earlier, I turned to Ashley and said, “I’m going that way. I can take you.”
Not trying to seem like a crazy person, I added, “I have a karmic debt to repay,” telling them my tale of being a 21-year-old lost Marine in downtown Oceanside and the gift of strangers delivering me to my duty station.
“Are you sure?” Her tight face relaxed a bit in a questioning way.
“Absolutely, I’m going that way anyway.” Ashley seemed cautious yet grateful for the offer.
“Do you have hotel reservations?”
“Yes, he made them at the Oceanside Harbor Inn.”
“Great, I know right where it is. I’ll take you to the hotel.”
We headed North on Interstate 5 in the driving rain, sharing where we each grew up. I told her about my time in the service. Ashley talked about how she met her boyfriend Steven, his deployment, and her excitement about seeing him again after a very long year.
It moved me to hear of her love and compassion for him. I was glad to play a small part in their reunion. When I dropped Ashley off, she offered to pay me for my trouble.
“Absolutely not, it was my pleasure. Please take yourselves out to a nice dinner to celebrate his safe return!”
As I pulled away from the hotel, it felt like a blink of an eye since I had been young and in love. It warmed my heart.
I often wonder if they’re still together.
Thank you, Deb! Want more from her?
🏝 Thank you for reading the first Saturday story about strangers having each other’s backs! I’m so glad you’re here. Here’s the collection.
The ASK and GIVE chat, the collection’s companion, is open 24/7. What are you in need of? A beach read recommendation? Help wording a social media post? Weather updates from far-flung places? ASK. 🤲 What do you have to share? A cat meme? A poem? A new favorite quote? GIVE. 🎁 Today, I have a share.
Want more from the Rolling Desk? Please
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Thank you so much @Holly Starley for the opportunity. I’m honored to be the first Give and Get contributor!!
You did a good thing, Deb! Love this sweet tale of gratuitous kindness.