It's late on Sunday evening, and I wanted to share just a few thoughts with you before I turn in for the evening...
Let's amend that last statement: I wanted to share one thought with you before I turn in this evening:
Please, please, please, don't be afraid to talk to people who are sick, suffering, different from you, in pain, or struggling to overcome ___________. We are human beings and we are all struggling with something.
Why am I sharing this now? Well, I recently visited with two dear friends, who I hadn't seen in a few months. Each knows of my cancer diagnosis, and I've tried hard to keep them updated on my status, invited them to read the blog, etc. When I saw each of them, there was an awkwardness to the conversations, until the issue finally came out. I suppose each conversation went something like this:
Me: Hey, how you doing?
Them: Great. What about you?
Me: I'm doing well. Saw my doctor the other day, and... 'blah, blah, blah'
Them: Good luck with all that.
Me: Thanks.
Them (and me): Hmmmm.... Hmmmmm...
Finally, me, after a seeming eternity: I feel great. I really do. I've changed my diet, lost some weight. I feel good about these positive changes I've made in my lifestyle!
Them (relieved): Oh, you look great! I wasn't sure if you were trying to lose weight on purpose (implying - but not saying - or if it's the cancer). Good for you!!!
[Resume normal conversation]
These are not acquaintances, but people I've know for many years and people with whom I've spent many hours.
Perhaps those of you who have experienced this same sort of thing are nodding your head right now. Hey, I get it. People don't know what to say. Worse yet, they are afraid of saying the wrong thing. So, instead, we get those awkward silences while the elephant takes up residence right in the room. There may come a day I look like crap. Please say so. "Ken, you look like you're really fighting the battle - keep it up!" is waaaaay better than stony silence. And if you don't know what to say to someone, say that! "Hey, I know you are really up against it. I don't know what to say..." Again, way better than nothing.
Honesty and sincerity go a long way. You may say the absolute wrong thing at the wrong time, but if it's delivered with sincerity and honesty (and a little tact), people will feel the sincerity and react to that, as opposed to being shocked, mortified, offended - or whatever other reaction you may have been fearing.
I'd like to offer a case in point, and them I'm off to the land of nod...
The scene is the hair salon where I've been getting my hair cut for the past 16 or 17 years. At the time, my stylist was the very lovely Darla. She and I would chat the time away whilst I got my locks trimmed, and many of these conversations also involved Darla's co-worker, the equally lovely Dawn, who was snipping away nearby... One day I came in to get my hair cut and Darla informed me that Dawn's husband had passed away unexpectedly. At this point in my life, Dawn and I lived in the same city in Orange County - Tustin. When I next saw Dawn, it had been only a few weeks since Steve's passing and I had no idea what to say to her. I knew I had to acknowledge her loss, but I didn't want to be treacly or maudlin about it. I couldn't say, for instance, that I was praying for her (I have a complicated relationship with God; don't get me started on that). For one thing, I didn't know if Dawn held any kind of religious beliefs. Finally, I plunged in and just spoke - from the heart - and I said, "Sorry to hear about your husband. If you ever need a pickle jar opened or something, I'm just a phone call away." Her reaction? Laughter. Gut-splitting laughter and a warm 'thank you'. About two weeks later, she called and said she had a pickle jar that needed opening and could I come over? We've been close friends ever since.
The bottom line is don't shy away from people in distress. That is when we need you the most. In Dawn's case, I think it was the first real laugh she'd allowed herself since burying her husband. Don't focus on your own fear of jamming your foot down your throat, focus on the needs and wants of those you care about.
That's really all I wanted to say. One last thing: Make it a point to say something nice to someone today; better yet, do it now.
Good night, friends. Thanks for your support all these years. And don't forget; I really need it now!
Good stuff Ken.
ReplyDeleteThank you!
DeleteThanks for sharing. Real good stuff.... So was it bread and butter pickles or kosher?
ReplyDeletePretty sure they were Dill - not my favorite, but April? She could eat a whole jar of 'em. I'm a bread and butter guy... I also love gherkins and capers. Damn. Is this the Food Channel?
DeleteI really enjoyed what you had to say. When I lost my daughter the main thing I really liked was when someone would make me laugh and take me out of the sadness. No one really knows what a person is going through even if they go through it themselves. In our deepest sorrow a touch of the hand always lets the person know they care. Laughter relieves the problems for a split second.
ReplyDeleteFirst, thank you for sharing. I've been a 'people watcher' my entire life it seems, and my experience in these situations is that people go through and arc in a matter of moments...
DeleteFirst, they laugh - and for just that moment - they feel good. They remember that they can laugh and that it is healing.
Then, they 'check themselves' almost immediately. I can almost hear the words marching through their brains... "Wait! You're in pain; you're mourning. You are not supposed to laugh!!"
You can almost sense the emotions and arguments: Be respectful! Where's your sense of loyalty? What if (the kids) (his mom) (his friends) see you laughing?
Slowly, however, - some more slowly than others - I can detect what I'll call a 'settled' look on the person's face. It's like they faced a hurdle and passed it; knowing that it was okay to feel emotions other than grief and pain. And that, someday, this too shall pass.
Thank you again for sharing. I just created a website where people will be able to share their stories of struggle - and success. I have the site, but no 'furniture' yet, so I hope you'll stay tuned. I'd love to hear more of your story.
Love the pickle line Dr.petronis I may have to use that one myself.
ReplyDeletekeep the blog posts coming
You rock
-Eli
Thank you, Eli!
DeletePS - I've decided that I am going to become Dr. P after all. You heard it here first :)
Love the pickle line, I may have to use that line myself !!!:)
ReplyDeleteGreat post!!!!
keep them coming
I am ALWAYS at a loss for words...my heart breaks for people who have lost loved ones and others battling their own battles...I always worry that I will say the wrong thing...so I just remain silent...not always the best policy...
ReplyDeleteBoss, I am stoked that you are among my readers!!! Yay!
DeleteI understand what you are saying, and often we can convey love, strength, and support by just being there. Often your simple presence is enough. Like when you went to visit your grandmother. You had to be there; and you were.
Nothing more need be said.