This week, The Kids were writing Thank You Notes to Uncle Mike and Family for all their recent gifts. You remember the bane of my existence, those cupcakes. Then I remembered that I have been negligent in writing a letter of my own.I want to thank someone for doing the right thing even though it wasn’t exactly right.
This past winter, Uncle Andrew came to Mexico for a two-week visit. We had the best weather of the past ten years so there was lot of suntanning going on. My neighbours will probably never spy on us again. But that’s another story.
When it came time to leave, Uncle Andrew was well versed on all the things that could go wrong. Just in case. Not that anything ever had or would. Famous last words.
By the time he made it to his first destination, he’d missed his connecting flight. But we didn’t know that and wouldn’t for several hours. When it became clear that he wasn’t arriving at his destination as planned, we went into panic mode.
Stuck in a foreign country where you don’t speak the language, have any local currency or the ability to call anyone* sounds like a Class “B” movie. Only it was real life.
Then, I had an “Aha moment”. We’ll track his credit card and see if there are were any charges. Perhaps a restaurant, hotel or something that would give us an idea of where he was so that we could talk to him.
The only problem was that we didn’t have his credit card number.
I made phone calls. Then I made some more phone calls. And some more.
Even though he’s a supplementary cardholder on my credit card and I am financially responsible for any and all charges he makes, the powers that be would not provide me with the credit card number or any specific transactions. The only information that I could obtain was the balance on my account (which includes all supplementary cardholders) and that information was always available to me.
Turns out that the balance had increased. By how much I didn’t know exactly but I figured by about the price of a one-way plane ticket, or a hotel room and a meal or a new watch. In reality, I didn’t know much.
Except that my Brother was somewhere. Somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be.
So, I made a phone call. To the last person that could help me. And they did.
Have a Story of Someone Doing the Right Thing?
* Nanna, Poppa and The Zoo were all out of the country at the time.
**I’m trying to be discrete in my telling of this story because I don’t want to get anyone in trouble. However, I felt that it should be told. Not because this person will ever read this post (because they won’t) but because we teach our kids to always follow the rules and sometimes, they need to do what’s right instead.
*** In addition, I want it to be a reminder that if you’re ever travelling, obtain all parties documentation numbers assuming that you will not be able to get them if and when you need them.
**** Uncle Andrew arrived home a day later. Safe and sound.