On Being A Better Person
In philosophy class on Monday night, my friend Sue was sharing about the unexpected help of people when she lost her job last year.
She said, “It was interesting to me because the people who I thought would come through for me didn’t. And people who I never would’ve expected came through for me in ways that blew my mind.”
I have found this to be true since my dad did that whole ‘break his hip, have surgery, get a staph infection, stay in the hospital for 25 days’ thing.
I am truly not meaning to draw a line and put PEOPLE WHO CAME THROUGH FOR ME on one side and PEOPLE WHO DIDN’T on the other. (Though, like Sue, the divide surprised me.) And I definitely don’t mean to say that stressful situations like these really show you ‘who your real friends are’ and we should be all up in arms about it and make them remember for the rest of their life how THEY WEREN’T THERE FOR ME WAHHHHHHHH.
I remember PCG telling me that when his father was dying, some of his closest friends disappeared. He held onto that anger and bitterness for years after and allowed it to destroy friendships. He was stuck for a very long time in his hurt and his pain, that feeling of being left alone, that feeling that people didn’t come through. And they should have.
I definitely can see his perspective now and would be lying if I said that I was never hurt by anyone or confused at the lack of understanding that some people have shown me since this whole thing began. And yet, I’m not interesting in holding people accountable or keeping tally marks nor do I believe that I am owed something from people. I honestly don’t think that just because I am having a rough time, the people around me are obligated to step up and offer to help. Not a bit.
It’s actually just that when you are in a tough place, a stressful place, a place where you can’t really even see the daylight anymore because you are so tapped out of energy and resources to think about whether it’s morning or evening, when someone says hello to you, it feels magical. When an e-mail pops into my inbox that says “Hey, do you need anything? Even a distraction? Can I take you to lunch?” I want to almost weep with gratitude.
It’s not so much the actual DOING as it is the offering. It’s someone taking a minute to call and check on me. Someone offering to drive me to Long Island so I won’t have to battle through the traffic alone. It’s blog comments and tweets and my manager at work saying “Go, leave whenever, do what you have to do”. This stuff blows my mind.
It has also humbled me.
When the people around me who I thought would help me sort of faded away into the background of their own lives, I started to think about how many times I faded away myself when others needed me. I thought about those phone calls I never made, the times I didn’t check in or show up or offer to drive or take them for a walk. Those many many instances in my life when I asked about Their Thing just to be nice. “How is that going?” but never followed it up with “How are YOU? What do you need?”
It never comes from a malicious place, I don’t think. A lot of the time, I back off because I assume people have it covered. “Oh, she doesn’t need my help, she has her boyfriend.” Or “he has a big family” or “we’re not that close, I would feel weird doing that.” I’m sure people make similar assumptions about me, especially with my family being both big and very close knit.
I think there’s also something to be said for people just not understanding. PCG came to this conclusion years after his father passed away. He told me he hadn’t realized at the time that unless people have gone through something similar, they just don’t know what to do. They don’t know what it’s like. They don’t have any basis for knowing how to help out. And so, how can you blame them? This really helped him forgive and move past those hurts.
This has definitely been true for me. I’m sure if someone in my life years ago told me “Oh, someone close to me is in the hospital”, I would’ve reacted like Oh! That sucks! And then carried on with my day. I wouldn’t have a frame of reference for what that actually means. Are they visiting them regularly, spending lots of time at the hospital? Are they missing work? Do they need me to do their laundry or buy their groceries or take them to dinner? Do they want company?
But now, I know. And isn’t that amazing? That I have learned this? And that I have now broadened my ability to empathize? That thanks to this experience, I can think in a circle much farther outside myself? It’s sort of incredible. And makes me realize the growth that is happening to me as I can no longer be the person who talks herself out of helping and makes excuses because she doesn’t understand.
It is lovely. To grow. To have a chance to be different. To be better.
It’s not even like it’s that hard. I’ve found that it takes so little for someone to make me feel heard and make me feel better. It is so nice to be noticed and cared for. I will never forget walking into philosophy a little early a few weeks ago. Jane asked me sincerely how I was doing and I started to cry and suddenly five people wrapped their arms around me.
These are the people that show me what it means to be present. To serve others before yourself. And there have been so many others. I have vowed to do the same, to bring that light and that service to the people in my life. To stop assuming I’m not needed or wanted or that it’s not a big deal if I don’t call or show up.
It’s important. It is.
It makes me feel so good to learn so much from this experience. It has shown me the importance of human connection, how to broaden my empathy, how to look outward. I am humbled and so grateful for those who have served me and my family too. It makes me feel like I have all the love in the world and my only job is to continue to spread it around.
“He told me he hadn’t realized at the time that unless people have gone through something similar, they just don’t know what to do. They don’t know what it’s like. They don’t have any basis for knowing how to help out.”
This really struck me. I hadn’t thought of it this way before, but you are so exactly right.
I haven’t directly experienced the death of a parent, and I am so thankful for that, but it does leave me sort of clueless when it happens to people I know. What do they need? Will one more sympathy card really make a difference? Do they want to talk about it or would they rather have a distraction? Would it help to offer to make them dinner or would they rather be left alone? I have no idea. So I send a heartfelt email, give them a tight hug when I see them, go to the funeral if I’m in town.
I don’t know what else to do.
But I HAVE been through an earth-shattering break-up. I know what that’s like. I know what helps and what doesn’t. So I’ve been able to reach out to a friend of mine as she struggles with a recent heartache. I know she needs regular invitations to go out, even if she doesn’t always accept. She needs to meet new people, even if they aren’t romantic prospects. She needs good books to help her see the light at the end of the tunnel. She needs someone to make her laugh and watch bad TV with her.
Those are things that helped me and when I think back to Who Was There For Me and Who Wasn’t, honestly? The people who were least there for me are also the people who have never been through a break-up like that. In retrospect I can see that this was not a coincidence.
When my Dad died a group of work friends just showed up at his house with a simple meal (spaghetti, salad, bread & ice cream).
They hugged everyone, cried with me, expressed their sympathies and left.
They were probably there for less than 15 minutes.
That memory? Will last me a lifetime. It makes me cry every single time I think about it.
Lawra, I think that’s a wonderful motto to live everyday by, “Spread the love”!
I think we learn how to respond from our families. Some families make a big deal out of someone being sick, and if they DIE there are week-long wakes, funerals, and huge gatherings.
Other families (like mine) concentrate on health and living. When my mom died, I didn’t go to her bedside for the last minutes. I couldn’t. My daughter sometimes asks me if I regret that, but I don’t. My family never attended wakes, either. As my father explained it, “I would rather remember George as he was before he got sick.”
You might imagine, then, that my family also doesn’t do wakes, burials, etc. We don’t. Everyone gets cremated and it’s a rarity to even have a memorial service. All these things are for the folks left behind and we all grieve differently.
I actually felt funny getting sympathy cards when my mom died.
When my husband’s mom died, his daughter specifically asked me to go with him to the funeral as support. Had she not, I wouldn’t have gone, and when his dad died sometime later I felt he was in good hands with his son at his side.
Sickness (and even death) are a part of life. Different people deal with these things in different ways and concentrate on different parts of life. Doesn’t mean, I don’t think, that people are uncaring, but is sometimes interpreted as such.
All I can offer is prayer and the occasional lard omelette.
This Blog was just what I needed today! I have already called and offered my help as soon as I was done reading this…and will again. I was like you but now I too have grown. Thank you, from one Laura to another…or should I say Lawwra.