"Tell us - from friends, loved ones, and even acquaintances- what does help/support/relief/kindness really look like?"
I've been mulling this question from my friend, John G., for the past few days. He suggested the answer might make a good post here. After giving it a lot of consideration, here's my first attempt. Not a definitive description because I don't think there is one. At least I don't have one. What I will share, for now, is what I am learning about support.
~ What support looks like not only varies from person to person but also for any one person, depending on the challenge and when it appears. When John was battling non-Hodgkins, we lived in Houston, in an apartment near the hospital. I didn't have to cook or clean and we were 12 years younger. I needed very little physical help as compared to today. But I could have used more emotional support; maybe I just didn't understand that I did as much as I do today?
~ There may many people who will offer to be of help, and though some may offer only as a courtesy, no one is a mind reader. Unless someone knows you very, very well, they cannot know what you might need and what you will accept. Even if they know, a new situation may require a level or kind of support neither of you recognizes. I've found it helpful to me and those who would support me to list all the ways someone could help me physically, intellectually and emotionally. It led me to make many requests I would not have otherwise - asking our window cleaner if he would take down all items from upper shelves so that neither of us needs to use a ladder anymore, replying to a friend who asked me what could lift my spirits that day -"flowers", or to another "a regular luncheon date at a spa."
~Which brings me to my last point (for now), and perhaps the most important - support, help, assistance, however you refer to it, is as much related to whether or how well you accept it as to whether or not it is offered. In the past, my pride was an obstacle to receiving the support I wanted. Sometimes, I thought it a sign of weakness or incompetence to admit I needed help. Sometimes, I'm embarrassed to say, I thought I could do it all or better. Experience has taught me otherwise. Sometimes I just didn't know what I needed. And sometimes, even today, I get too overwhelmed, too caught up in anxiety and fear to even recognize what is being offered.
Well, John, my friend, your question has instigated some serious thought. I recognized even as I started to compose my reply that there is much more I want to add - so there will be a Part II. In the meantime, I welcome comments, questions, and other ideas. Support each other? What a wonderful idea.
I haven't thought about her for years. I doubt she would remember the dinner she prepared 40 years ago as a favor for a mutual friend who was deeply concerned for me and thought she could be of help. In the midst of debilitating panic at the prospects of living alone for the first time after a nasty divorce, I, too, was concerned, and thus, very grateful for the invitation. Hoping she, indeed, could be of help.
I don't remember her name. I'll call her Sara. Our friend said Sara was ahead of me in the stream of 70's divorcees, swimming with grace and serenity. Walking into her home, I could feel the peacefulness immediately. After our meal, she got straight to the point. This I remember vividly. "Mike says you are struggling with living alone and hopes I can offer some good advice. Well, I'm no expert, but these three things work for me, a career I love, friends of the same sex, and hobbies or interests that fill the empty hours." Simple. Straight to the point.
Well, I was teaching and loved it. I had a group of female friends from among neighbors and colleagues, who supported, and worried about me. But hobbies, interests? All my interests had been directed by my ex. So I thanked her, not adequately I'm sure, and set out to develop my own hobbies. And never saw her again. I eventually settled on needlepoint, needle pointing a pillow for everyone I knew. Eventually, settled into a modicum of comfort in my singleness, but more importantly, gained the confidence that I could and would do so eventually with my own style of grace and serenity.
So what triggered this memory? No single comment or event, but rather a series of events that took place this week. A week of daily contact with friends, old and new. A week of sharing memories, tears, laughter, good food, serious conversation, fears and hopes and even a few interesting possibilities for the future. A week that has culminated with suddenly remembering Sara and thinking of how, 40 years later, I would respond to her advice.
Some of the contacts this week were extemporaneous - e-mails, Facebook posts, a telephone call - from friends acquired along my career path, some friendships over 25 years old. Others - the newer St. George friendships - had been planned for some time. My monthly luncheon date with a friend in her 80's, who shared her dream of seeing Alaska some day, and opened the possibility that we might do that together. The next day, lunch at a local spa with a friend in her 50's, Grasshopper to my Sensei. Discussing my plans for the future, she sparked an idea for a project I could become passionate about. Asked how she might be of personal support in the days ahead, we committed to a monthly luncheon, at the spa, of course.
Then, there were the gatherings. A monthly meeting of a group that has been meeting for two years now, pulled together in the hopes that these women would be a bastion of support in the inevitable life crises that, indeed, have begun to emerge. Aging from 65 to 82, with a fount of knowledge and expertise and a bottomless well of compassion, they have become the haven we hoped for two years ago. For me, for sure. Then, today, lunch with friends to discuss Hillbilly Elegy, four "senior citizens" who share a love of reading and learning,
So, how would I respond to Sara's advice today? At 76, retired, with perhaps too many hobbies, I would say friendship has become the most important, enduring element for me in living a satisfying life, whether alone or with a mate. I would add, that especially as I have aged, I value a web of friends of different generations and different interests. That though it is tempting, especially in today's divisive, hostile environment, to surround myself only with people who think and believe as I do, the diversity of age, interests, and viewpoints keeps me engaged and invigorated. That I need friends to cry with, and friends to laugh with, too. That I need friends who share a piece of my history, friends who nurture me in the present, and friends who help me face the future.
I take comfort in knowing I have created just such an elaborate web of friendships over the years, largely by remarkable good fortune, surely not by conscious design. I don't know how Sara has fared. If she would amend her advice as I have. I hope life has been good to her. I hope she is surrounded by a web of loving, nurturing, diverse friendships.
