July always arrives with a blend of sunshine and sorrow for me. Fifteen years ago this month, my father died in a commercial aviation accident, a moment that split my life into a before and an after. Father’s Day and midsummer headlines—whether news of an airline crash in India or conflicts swirling far from our quiet streets—remind me how suddenly life can change.
Loss has many faces. Some endure long journeys through illness, others face the shock of an instant tragedy, and some grieve companions with paws instead of words. The route may differ, but the destination—the ache of absence—is universally understood.
Why share this as your mayor? Because grief does not respect titles, postcodes or calendars. I have learned, in council chambers and grocery aisles alike, that every person carries an invisible backpack of worries: an unconfirmed diagnosis, a job lost, a loved one slipping away. When we cross paths—on Big Basin Way, at the Farmers’ Market or online—we rarely glimpse that load. A gentle word or patient ear can lighten it more than we know.
Over the past year, I have heard from neighbors recovering from major heart surgery, caregivers stretched thin, and families mourning sudden accidents. Their stories arrive by email, during office hours, in personal conversations and sometimes in the passionate public comments that precede a vote. Critique is part of civic life, and I welcome it; still, I remind myself to listen first and take nothing personally. Behind every opinion is a human being with a story that matters.
If Saratoga becomes known as a city that chooses kindness—even marginally above average—I would count that a civic victory. Kindness is not abstract. It shows up in everyday gestures: letting someone merge on Saratoga‑Sunnyvale Road, thanking a crossing guard, checking on the senior down the block who hasn’t put out the recycling bins.
Here are three simple, actionable ways we can practice community care this month:
Reach out. Think of one person you haven’t seen in a while—maybe a neighbor whose porchlight seems dimmer lately. Send a quick text, drop off a flower from your garden or invite them for a walk under our oaks. Presence often speaks louder than perfect words.
Use city resources. Saratoga’s website lists local support groups and volunteer openings (saratoga.ca.us/volunteer). If you have a gift for listening, consider grief support programs at West Valley Community Services or working with our senior center. Serving on a city commission is another “lightweight” way to learn about local government while giving back.
Lead by example online. Much of our interaction now occurs behind screens on places like NextDoor or Facebook. Before pressing “send,” ask whether your comment builds understanding or piles on hurt. A respectful tone can keep digital debates from spilling into real‑world resentment.
Small acts matter. I was taught that even a smile is a charitable gift. Science backs this up: Simple expressions of warmth can lower stress hormones for both giver and receiver. Multiply one smile by 31,000 residents, and we are engineering a public health intervention disguised as friendliness.
We are fortunate to live in a city blessed with natural beauty and rich history. But no redwood or heritage building can console a grieving parent or calm an anxious teen; only people can do that. Many of us already serve through synagogues, churches, mosques, sports leagues and nonprofits. I encourage you to widen the circle—invite friends into your community rituals and be ready to accept their invitations in return. The skills that built faith centers, companies and youth teams can also strengthen our civic fabric.
Compassion and kindness are contagious. Let us choose to meet one another with patience, generosity and grace. In doing so, we honor those we have lost and ensure Saratoga remains not just a beautiful place to live, but a gentle one.
See you on the sidewalk—with a smile.
Belal Aftab is the mayor of Saratoga.
