I'll get back to our trip recap (that's a promise or a threat depending on your feelings about an ad nauseum re-telling) soon but today is a day I have thought about a lot in the last 365 days.
One year ago, I stopped by the office to have a quick meeting about a project. Just as I was about to leave, a concerned face appeared in the doorway to let me know that a friend and colleague was at the hospital, tending to her daughter who had been severely injured in a car-bike accident. It was unknown whether there was anyone at the hospital with her family. What was known was that their child would not recover. I didn't want to go to the hospital. I hate to admit that my first reaction was somewhat selfish. I couldn't bear the thought that these people, so far from the country of their birth, might be at the hospital alone with their sorrow. Two of us piled in my car, drove to the regional trauma center, and asked where to find the family.
We were relieved to find a circle of friends and school district officials, helped where we could, and tried to be as unobtrusive as possible. Today, just as 365 days ago, I know absolutely no words worth saying to our friend.
We stayed as long as we felt we could be helpful but there were decisions to be made and discussions to be had. Soon is was just family and adopted family at the hospital and we went home.
Glimpsing the breach of that very fine line between OK and not is tough to swallow. I've thought about it a lot this year. I've been alone more. I've had a harder time coping with mindlessness I encounter in my daily life. I've had a hard time knowing what to say or how to be around my friend who has lost so much and somehow managed to carry on.
Completely by chance, I found a video this morning that gave me a strange sense of comfort and a little, artful handbook about how to move forward. I don't know if my friend needs it today but I know I do.
I think that you do a good job of being there for people. Certainly, the act of being there - saying something or not - is an extraordinary feat for many of us. I also think (though what merit my thoughts have I'm not sure...) that just listening is so important. So many people are too busy to do even that. I'm going to guess that you don't have to say anything about the accident - yes, perhaps you do if your friend brings it up - but merely go and have coffee. Talk about your trip, your job, how Mr. K is in love with his bike (oh, you know you are), maybe have a whole conversation about the weather.
ReplyDeleteDon't discredit anything, or nothing, that you've done over the past 365 days. It's great that you were there in the beginning and I'm going to guess that's what she remembers.
And loneliness? Yah, I know... it gets better.
Thanks. We have talked but it all feels a little empty - almost like when you know something about someone you shouldn't (and don't want to) know and then you run into them at the grocery store and act all awkward and uncomfortable (or maybe that's just me). She appreciated that I acknowledged the anniversary in an email today. I need to ask her to have coffee... perhaps on a day when I'm not already feeling emotionally wonky, though!
ReplyDeletethis takes my breath away.
ReplyDeleteI cannot even begin to imagine.
and you are so right, just being there means so much when people go through difficult situations. words don't need to be said sometimes.
I would think that your friend would definitely appreciate coffee and time to catch up and probably a long hug and maybe even a good cry. it will be awkward, and it may feel like there is a giant elephant in the room, but I am sure it is so needed for you both. your friendship probably means a great deal to her and I am sure that she really misses you, let alone her daughter.
you can do it!! and you will be so glad when you do, I think it may help those tough days and give your 'mindlessness' a break!
love you!
Thanks, Beth.
ReplyDelete