Pass It On
Sometimes personal growth comes from caregiving. Sometimes this growth is from the effects of loss.
And sometimes it is just all of the above.
We’ve all had our heroes. Attitudes and personality traits that I once admired in my childhood mentors have been coming back to me in funny ways. Those role models all had a strength of conviction that appeared to be born of innate wisdom. Confident, knowledgeable, and comfortable in their skin.
As my path continues to stretch out in front of (and behind!) me, I am discovering that such wisdom might not have been so innate after all. Maybe, sometimes, heroes were just the product of weathering personal storms.
Grieving Friend
This is a story about responding to a problem in a way that is not right or wrong. It is about power but especially not about power over others. It is about healing.
A friend recently suffered a great personal loss and has been struggling, as we all do in such circumstances. He began to act out some very uncharacteristic anger that I recognized. (A “been there, done that” moment.)
Folks nearby seemed to be waiting for the retaliation in kind from me but I just moved on with the conversation. (Responding to anger with anger is a true zero-sum event.) Judging from their reactions, I guess I disappointed the spectators in the group.
A day or two later, I had the opportunity to talk privately with the same person. When I said I wanted to discuss something personal, his face fell and he looked like he was expecting a major dressing-down.
All I did was offer support in this time of troubling adjustment to his loss. No judgements or even comments about what had happened earlier. I understood his anger but how do you tell someone you understand what they are going through when you know that such a statement can never be completely true?
You don’t.
I offered my strength and support. That was all I had that he could use.
Arrival Where?
I continue to be surprised at where I am, having traveled such a non-linear path to who I currently am. But I guess that’s the way it can happen.
I keep catching glimpses of myself through the reflection of memory and start to recognize in me the attributes I always admired of those few individuals to whom I looked up. From my perspective, who I am is not the least bit heroic, much less that strong.
I do however have a conviction born of having lived and worked through trials. I survived and grew. My friend doesn’t know he recently joined this same club, though he will. He is gaining the wisdom that comes from loss. We use it to help heal those who are in need.
I trust my friend will take what is offered and remember just one thing. To pass it on
“She recognized that that is how friendships begin: one person reveals a moment of strangeness, and the other person decides just to listen and not exploit it.”
― Meg Wolitzer