Learning To Reach Out

At times it can be very hard to believe that the universe has order and that you need to experience a certain time and place. At the moment it just feels pointless and painful; a random act of cruelty. But in most cases, there is a bit of knowledge, some shred of compassion or perspective that you are meant to glean right at that moment to carry with you on your journey. Because at some point in the future, you will be called upon to share that thought, experience or emotion with another.

In one specific case, it took me nearly 20 years to fully understand why I had crossed paths with a person in my past. We worked together for a few years, and then slowly lost touch but I will never forget her wisdom and friendship. She had lost her father to cancer several years before we met and she was still working to accept her new reality. I, on the other hand, was only halfway through my journey but headed down a similar path. I had questions and doubts but was certain my situation would have a different outcome than hers. There was no way that this disease would beat my father. But I listened to her stories and warnings more intent on letting her vent and begin to heal than to take mental notes to apply to my future. I think she knew I didn’t believe it could happen to my family as it had to hers, but she also knew I was listening. And somehow she understood that the information she was relaying would prepare me for the inevitable future even though I wasn’t ready to accept it now.

Lynn told me about her father’s decline, about their sometimes rocky relationship and how none of that mattered when the end drew near. He was her father and she would do anything she could to ease his pain and suffering. And she wanted to make sure that I was in that same position when it came time for my father to face the end of his time on this earth. She related stories about her father’s discomfort and how the meds just weren’t helping. She called his hospice nurse and begged for any suggestions to help make her father more comfortable and to ease his transition. On more than one occasion she reminded me of the nurse’s suggestions and cautions. She told me how the nurse emphatically repeated that this was almost over, time was short and to say any last thoughts. She repeated the signs I would see, the emotions I would experience and reminded me that I needed to be prepared for what I was going to witness, for myself and for my family. She made sure I was ready for an event that I thought would never occur but one which would become reality some five years in the future. And even though we no longer worked together when my father passed, she was there to talk me through the emotions and grieving as a friend who had been there. She knew what was going to happen long before I was ready to admit it. And then she was there to make sure I came out the other side of that stressful, painful and heartbreaking event.

At the time, I was still overwhelmed by the event, but I knew that it would have been much more difficult without Lynn’s help. As time passed, I wondered why I had been so blessed to have found a friend to guide me along that part of my journey, but I never really found my answer, at least in that decade. It’s been over 20 years since my talks with Lynn began, and I’m finally beginning to grasp more of the answer to my question. We are not here to be solitary creatures. We need family and friends to help us and to offer our help to. Even when we feel totally alone, lost in some vast dark hole of isolation, we are not alone. Others have experienced this same darkness, and they have found a way to get through it. Many times, that path to the warmth of sunlight can only be found by reaching out into the darkness and taking the outstretched hand of a friend; someone who has been through that same experience and was placed in your life to make sure that you, too, found your way.

And this past week, I found myself thrusting my hand into that same dark void, but this time it was to take the hand of a dear friend who just lost her father. Ironically, she and her father had their ups and downs, and their relationship was more similar to that of Lynn and her father than me and my father. But in the end, it was a daughter looking for a way to survive the loss of her father, and nothing else mattered as the end drew near. We talked a few weeks ago about her father and the possible outcome, and we chatted via text during her visit with him. And then on Tuesday morning, I had this unexplainable urge to reach out to my friend, like something was just amiss. It was, her father had passed that morning. When I heard I couldn’t help but ache for her. I knew her loss and her pain. For a moment I was back many years ago. I shed tears for my friend’s loss, for Lynn’s loss, and for my own loss.
I realized that this is something that I will always carry with me. And I began to understand that this is something that I will always share with a few special people in my life. It is a bond that we share, a path of healing and acceptance that we will always be traveling. But thankfully we will not face it alone. From time to time we will find others who are joining us on this journey. And again, we will reach a hand into the darkness to offer support and guidance to another soul, another little girl, who is facing the loss of her father. She will join us as we seek understanding and acceptance because as a group we will share strength and find courage greater than any single lost soul could possess.