It’s what you don’t do
I know you love me
I don’t need proof. ~ Lianne La Havas
Recently, I learned that I would be hospitalized for a pretty significant surgical procedure. Prior to the surgery, I told a few family members and friends about the upcoming ordeal. The responses were a little bit startling. One person said, “When you have your surgery, you’ll have to go over to so and so’s house,” – meaning – that I should not stay at my own home, or not at his home. Another friend wanted me to come to their house; making it easier on them to be there for me. Neither response thrilled me. My preference, after surgery, was to be at my home, in my own bed. Given the pain that I would probably experience, and the healing that needed to take place, I did not want to be at anyone else’s place, but mine.
Making my wishes known to these persons was not a pleasant thing to do. I thought that it made perfect sense that I wanted and deserved to be in my own home environment to recover from this surgery. I assumed that it was quite reasonable that I did not want to be at someone else’s place. Obviously, I was mistaken, which is why I’m writing this blog.
I wonder how many of you reading this blog would be like those friends who said to me that I should be somewhere else or where they wanted me to be for my recovery? Would that have been your recommendation? Or, might you have said, like a few others did (if we were that close) “If you need anything, call us and we will come over and help you.” “We are here for you.” “We will try to be helpful to you.”?
It is often inconvenient to be there for the ones we love. It gets in our way; disrupts our plans; and, sometimes it costs us greatly to step up and be there for the ones that we love when something has gone wrong. To genuinely be there for others, in both mind and body, it sometimes requires that we stop what we are doing and be present to them. This is what I have repeatedly and consistently done for the special ones in my life. I have been there for them to the best of my ability, and, often, in more ways than one.
When I made it known to both friends mentioned above as to what I wanted for my recovery, it did not go as expected. One so-called friend flat-out ghosted me. He became angry, disappeared, and to this day I have never heard from him (and this he did right after he refused to show me much empathy for an unexpected almost flat tire). With the other friend, I met her halfway; I agreed to stay for one week of the two weeks of my recovery at her home.
Startling and disappointing? That’s what I was thinking, too. But, as usual, I came to realize that you win some and you lose some. Life has a very uncanny way of opening our eyes and showing us what we need to see when we need to see it; that’s if we are willing to take the time to stop, look and listen to the people around us. Because, as the saying goes, actions always speak louder than words.
©2019 annalise fonza, Ph.D.