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Sunday, February 17, 2013

Being There


 Today we had the privilege of going to a 90th birthday celebration. This woman has endured many years of heartache: The loss of a husband, a son, a son-in-law, both much too young (when a mother outlives a child, they are always too young...) and a daughter that has had breast cancer. But no doubt there has been years of joy. She is the matriarch of a close extended family and is obviously loved as evidenced by so many in attendance. Nearly all her grandchildren were there as well as great-grandchildren (not sure if there are any great-greats yet!)  plus no doubt assorted nieces and nephews and many many friends. She looks 20 years (at least) younger, she smiles all the time, she is a gracious, beautiful, classic and classy woman. I want to be Grace when I grow up. (See, even her name is perfectly chosen)
I have known this wonderful family for nearly 22 years and have been there throughout much of their loss, pain, and sorrow. Happily, I've also been there throughout the joyful occasions, such as marriages, child birth, graduations, special birthday celebrations. Today was one of those special days. I love happy days and gatherings that don't include a eulogy.

One big huge mistake I made today. Boy, do I owe her daughter JD an apology. She has been through two years of hell. Breast cancer, double mastectomy, reconstruction, radiation, chemo, damage to her heart via drugs meant to save her life, and a rare condition that causes irreversible hair loss from chemo; well the list goes on. Fortunately, she has had a supportive and loving family that have been there for it all, to help in any way they can. So what was the mistake? I told her she looked fabulous.

Now on the surface, that seems like a good thing, a compliment. But I know better. Why not tell someone they look good that has been to hell and back? Well, sometimes to say that minimizes what they are going through. ("Great, I feel like &%#* and you are not recognizing it.") Obviously, that doesn't mean saying "Oh my! You look awful!"

What, then, should you say when someone is going through heartache, an illness, a death, a financial crisis?
From Miluna Fausch
  1. See if they are being supported emotionally and spiritually. The medical system does not always provide comfort in these areas. Offer to start a support team or prayer group. You can call people and ask them to pray according to their faith.
  2. Please don't say, "I understand." Unless you are in their shoes, you don't.
  3. Hang in there with them. This may bring up your own fears. Supportive friends don't disappear when it gets tough.
  4. When you don't know what to say simply say, "I don't know what to say - what can I do for you?" or "I am sorry."
  5. Offer to run specific errands. Do they need groceries? Do they have videos to return? Can you pick up books at the library?
  6. Understand that they may need some space to process and be alone and they don't always know how to ask for help.
  7. Take them an angel, or cross or some type of spiritual or religious gift. Help them separate their Being from their disease.
  8. Don't offer to make donations to organizations unless they suggest. They may not want to be reminded of what they went through or support any organizations.
  9. If there is a support group for what they are going through and they feel it would help, offer to go with them to the first meeting.
  10. Ask them what book they have always wanted to read. Do they have a copy? Buy and deliver the book to them.
  11. Great gifts include a treat (if they are not on a special diet) a dessert, fruit, organic coffee or tea; a beautiful journal and pen to record their thoughts in.
  12. Please allow them to feel what they are feeling. Don't say things like "cheer up" or "you shouldn't feel that way." 
I don't know who wrote these ideas, but I liked them:

  1. Don't avoid me.  Be the friend, the loved one you've always been.
  2. Touch me.  A simple squeeze of the hand tells me you still care.
  3. Call and tell me you're bringing over my favorite dish.  Bring food in disposable containers so I won't worry about returning them.
  4. Watch my children while I take a little time to be alone with my loved one. My children may also need a vacation from my illness.
  5. Cry with me when I cry and laugh with me when I laugh.  Don't be afraid to share these emotions with me.  Pain isolates.  Help me reconnect with others.
  6. Take me out for a pleasure trip, but I know my limitations.
  7. Call for my shopping list, and make a special delivery to my home.
  8. Before you visit, call to let me know, but don't be afraid to visit.  I told you I can get lonely.
  9. Help me celebrate holidays (and life) by decorating my hospital room or home, or by bringing me flowers or other natural treasures.
  10. Help my family.  Invite them out.  Take them places.  I am sick, but they may be suffering also.  Offer to come and stay with me to give my loved ones a break.
  11. Be creative.  Bring me a book of thoughts, taped music, a poster for my wall, cookies to share with my family and friends.
  12. Let's talk about it.  Maybe I need to talk about my illness.  Find out by asking, "Do you feel like talking about it?"
  13. Don't always feel we have to talk.  Sitting quietly together is fine.  Your presence confirms that I'm still important and alive.
  14. Can you take me and/or my children somewhere?  I may need transportation to a treatment, to the store, or to my physician.
  15. Help me feel good about myself by looking past my appearance.
  16. Please include me in decision making.  I've been robbed of so may things. Don't deny me a chance to make decisions in my family and in my life.
  17. Talk to me about the future.  Tomorrow, next week, next year.  Hope is so important to me.
  18. Bring a positive attitude.  It's catching.  Help me respect reality.
  19. What's in the news?  Magazines, photos, newspapers, and verbal reports keep me from feeling the world is passing me by.
  20. Could you help me with some cleaning?  During my illness my family and I still face dirty clothes, dirty dishes, and a dirty house.
  21. Water my flowers.
  22. Just send a card to let me know you care.
  23. Pray for me and share your faith with me.
  24. Tell me how you'd like to help me, and when I agree, please do so.
  25. Tell me about support groups so I can share with others.
On the flip side saw a great article about what to say when you feel like %$&# and someone tells you that you look great! (And boy have we all been there at some point in our lives!) I am printing a few but if you want to read the whole list check out this blog link:
 http://invisibleillnessweek.com/2012/08/14/you-look-so-good/
The most telling comment I read was from a woman who simply said, “I wonder why they can’t see my pain in my eyes?” It’s a good reminder that though we sometimes think the world should accommodate our emotional needs, who around us is hurting for other reasons (divorce, loss of job, loss of loved one, etc.) and they are wondering about us, “Why can’t she see the pain in my eyes?”
Be sure to add your own at the bottom in the comments section!
 but you look so good You Look So Good! 55 Ways You Say You Respond When Ill
  1. Drugs are a wonderful thing (Ed note:Better living through chemistry is my personal fav)
  2. I have my good days and I have my bad days.
  3. I have my ‘good’ days...but this isn’t one of them!
  4. Thanks, I wish I felt better.
  5. That’s a perfect example of how you can never judge a book by its cover.
  6. I’m trying to appreciate that fact. I know the day may come when I have to use a wheelchair or a cane, and my illness will be more visible.
  7. Thanks. I have more to be grateful for than I have to complain about – which means I have a LOT to be grateful for!
  8. Well I guess I did good job on my makeup, because I am having a hard time, to tell the truth.
  9. . . .And that’s all that really matters, isn’t it?
  10. Powder and paint, make you what you ain’t!
  11. It took a lot of work to look like this.
  12. It’s nice of you to think so, but you’re missing the pain and agony that I really am in.
  13. And you look so wise. Looks can be deceiving though, huh?
  14. I’m having a “good face” day.
  15. Yeah. My kid thinks it’s cool I’m an ill person working under-cover!
  16. I’m trying my best to do well OVER my circumstances instead of being under them!
  17. It’s up and down.
  18. I’m still struggling, but it IS nice to have a day when I am able to pull myself together and make it out of the house!
  19. Good, because if I looked like I feel it would scare you to death.
  20. Actually, I still am really hurting…
  21. I am 36 years old outside but 85 inside
  22. Thank you. I’m on my way to the Oscars.
  23. Thanks, I’m grateful for this good day.
  24. Things aren’t always what they seem.
  25. Thanks, I guess I am fortunate that I have an illness that can’t be seen.
  26. Thanks. I like good days.
  27. Thanks. . . I wish I felt it!
  28. Looks can be deceiving (and smile)
  29. Thank God for makeup!
  30. Thank you for caring. I try to act like I feel better than I really do.
  31. Thanks, I am trying to even though it will never go away. I just try to remember things could be worse.
  32. I’d be great if it wasn’t for the pain.
  33. If I can’t feel good, at least I am determined to look good!
  34. I’m in good shape for the shape I am in!
  35. Smoke and mirrors!

Okay some of these are a bit sarcastic, but as they say, if you feel like being sarcastic, come sit next to me!
Please, just Be There! and Happy 90th Sweet Grace...and JD, I am so sorry I was a jerk. I love you, feel better and stay well.

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