WHAT TO SAY WHEN YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT

 (Note to readers: Getting free images from Google no longer words. One must subscribe to various sites which I do not want to do. These are older images which fit before the change. Sigh.)

   I was reminded of this when I recently expressed deep concerns about a family member whose health issues have significantly worsened and the response I received from a friend was not what I had hoped for. Back in the day when I was undergoing chemo (thanks for saving my life, but fuck you for giving me Dysautonomia and neuropathy!), folks at our UCC church sometimes would strike the right note in responding to my pale, limpy self, and others not so much. One dude, whom I loved, would ask, "How're you feeling, Annie?" I wanted to shout, "WHAT D'YA THINK? I FEEL LIKE CRAP!" But my good manners prevented this.

 

  One woman bustled up to me with the most ghastly pattern for a cap with ties to make once I was bald. Being the fashionista I am, I think I may not have been as warm as I could have, but hey, it was never about you, it was always about me! And I can remember another friend from my Catholic Church who sent internet news about Baking Soda curing Stage 4 breast cancer. Honestly. I am not making this up.

 

  Knowing how to respond to someone who is grieving, sad, or going through a hard time is an essential lesson in being human. Years back, just after my mom died, I went to our local church, thinking it would help my grief. But as the hymns began, I collapsed sobbing onto the hard pew. As I stumbled out of the church at the end, one older man I knew just took my hand and gave it a squeeze. That's all was needed, that loving touch and squeeze telling me, "I know how you feel, I am here with you." Makes me tear up just recounting it.

  So, after recounting the long list of a dear family member's illnesses to a friend, I did get some sympathy but mostly what I got were suggestions of what to do next, and what to do. That is not what I needed then. Just give me a digital squeeze of the hand, honey. Tell me, "I am so sorry for this new trouble. Know that I am keeping you in my thoughts and prayers. I dearly hope things get better with time." That's all you need to say to someone whose heart is hurting.

 

  At our local UCC church, we have a new and fabulous pastor who actually is pastoral. Last summer when I caught sight of this enormous black bear standing on his hind legs at our gate, it triggered the trauma of being shot with a rifle (a home gun accident) when I was 7 years-old. It slayed me. I sent an email to Mark telling him about the trigger of this past trauma, and he called to talk with me. Not "to me" you understand. He prayed with me over the phone. He shared things he had learned about trauma. He was there for me in an immediate, loving way. That is what a pastor does, that is what a friend does. "I am here for you. Tell me what is happening."

 

  Years back during Confessions with a wonderful priest, at the end he said to me, "You know, Annie, you don't have to be Mrs. Fixit." I have never forgotten that, is that is my default mode. I have to step on myself to keep from offering solutions, telling people how things could be better, etc. etc. I have learned to just say, "I am so sorry. This must be a hard time for you. I am thinking of you."

 

  I pass on this hard-won wisdom to use as you see fit. When your loved one is suffering, offer to bring over a casserole; ask, Can I walk your dog for you?; offer to sit with them for awhile and just be a warm presence. That is what we need more of in this harsh world--a loving presence, being there for others. Also someone who will do your laundry and fold it for you. Amen.