I have been lucky in my life. I have had a series of parent figures. I have always liked older people. I like their wisdom. I like their willingness to sit and talk to me. And, I can see now, looking back over the meandering path of my life, I wouldn't be here without them.

My most unlikely of mentors was Lee Phelps. I was 23, broke and working as an underpaid radio reporter in Santa Cruz. One day, I was crying over my broken-down car. I had no money, no savings, and no options. Lee overheard me in the newsroom. He was a conservative, retired military, political commentator at the radio station who smoked a pack a day. He offered me a place to stay, as long as he wanted it. As he said at the time, "You could use the hand. I could use the company."

The liberal 23-year-old and conservative 55-year-old became the most unlikely of soulmates. We sat up and watched Charles Bronson movies. We talked politics. He had a beautiful, deep voice, and I would have him read me poetry. I lived with dear Lee for a year. What made him decide to be there for a young girl like me? I asked him one night, and he told me, "I would like to think you would do the same one day."

Lee and I kept in touch these last 20 years. All these years, whenever Lee called, I had to force myself to stop all the pressures and noise and spend time to touch base with my old friend. A part of me would get frustrated, wanting to charge off into my day. The other part of me always prevailed, and I made that time, like he had done for me.

Once, a couple of years ago, I called Lee when I had more than a few minutes to spare. I asked him if he truly had ever known what a difference he made in my life so long ago, if I had truly every thanked him enough for his kindness. Lee said, "Hon, you have told me many times over the years, with your eyes, and with your voice."

I play those words in my head now. I hadn't heard from Lee for a while over the last year. Last month, his family called to tell me he had died after a long battle with cancer. He spent the last six months of his life in a rehab facility after having a stroke. His beautiful voice was gone. He wanted the end by the time it came.

At first I was horrified at the kind of friend I had been. Why hadn't I known? Why hadn't I called more, kept in touch more? But of course I know - it's because life is busy. And my only balm now is remembering Lee, telling me how he had always known how grateful I was.

Graduates, you will be lucky in your lifetime to find people who care, people who take chances on you, who open their homes to you. You may need them to survive the tough times. And if you find them? Thank them whenever you can and tell them you love them - with your eyes, and with your voice.

Lauri Hennessey is the mother of three who runs her own public relations firm and can be reached at Lauri@hennesseypr.com.